Here's how I know when I'm tired vs. when I'm maybe a little depressed: I don't feel like dusting, and I don't feel like rearranging or decorating. Even when I'm tired, those things still sound like fun and I usually find a way to do them, even if general housework is suffering. And my house? It is dusty. Especially the bedrooms.
I'm not someone who buys a picture and takes two months to get around to hanging it. Usually it happens within an hour of getting home from the store. But I have had two little coordinating canvasses for my bedroom (which my sister found for five dollars apiece at T.J. Maxx- that WAS a fun day) sitting in a corner for almost two weeks and I just have not once felt motivated to get up and hang them.
I am really not liking these progesterone shots the longer it goes on. Either my pain tolerance is getting worse or my hips are becoming covered in scar tissue and there's just no good place to stick a long needle anymore without it hurting. Each one seems to be sucking more and leaving more lingering pain. But worse than that is that I'm pretty sure the extra hormones are what's responsible for destroying my coping mechanisms the last few weeks. You guys, I cry all the time. I cannot stop crying about stuff. Some of it makes sense, but a lot of times it doesn't at all, and it's just getting annoying, frankly. Also, once it starts, I seem incapable of shutting it off and snapping back to normal. I just... I really dread another ten weeks of this. That's all.