Does the world look dead, or do I need a Prozac?

It is, yet again, one of those days.

It’s when time slows down to painful crawl, and everything you see seems to devoid of life and color.

All the people look pissed off, or depressed, tired, and downtrodden, there’s too much smoke everywhere and they sky has the deadest blue hue you’ve ever seen.

Everything you eat tastes flat and drab, your fingers and hands feel as heavy as lead, and no matter what you do, your body always manages to revert itself into a slouching position.

You go through the tasks you have and then forget what you just did a few minutes later, trusting its quality to your previous mental capacity, which really wasn’t much at all. You suddenly find your job boring and unrewarding, and then contemplate on leaving, and then you suddenly remember that you need the money and that it’ll be hell to start all over again.

And then all those annoying things you've stored way back in your head and labeled as "information" start to stir from their dark and damp nooks and try to assert themselves as "memories" again. They succeed for a while, wrapping their gooey and disgusting tentacles around you, and then through sheer determination, you drive them back to their holes. And then you're back to that old lethargic self you were a few minutes ago.

It would have been normal on Mondays, when you drag your ass out of bed, still hung-over from the weekend reprieve from the humdrum routine of work, but today isn’t Monday.

You try to distract yourself with the web, but then all you can manage to type are the letters "www".

So all that’s left to do is to wait for the dismissal bell to ring, catch a ride home, get some dinner, sleep, and pray that tomorrow will be better than today.