I have been feeling kind of down in the dumps for at least three days now. That is not normal, is it? The crazy thing is that I have every reason for just loving life; a gorgeous home, an amazing husband, three adorable lil’ angles, a prize winning dog, and many, many friends who adore me. I am not a doctor, but I think this must be depression. And if I know anything about depression (And I do! I once saw something about it on Dr. Oz while I was flipping over to PBS), I know they can just give you some pills and, wallah! Cured. I once knew someone named Michelle who had the depression pills and lost weight, so better yet.
So I called my doctor’s office this morning and unfortunately got that awful Dr. Winger instead of nice Dr. Lassiter. Dr. Winger is a lady doctor, which I hate. Why are ladies even doctors, when they could be nurses and wear cute lil’ uniforms? Also, she is always acting like she knows more about everything than I know. So when I told her about my depression and asked, very politely, for couple of different kinds of pills, she had the nerve to give me the name of a psychologist. Only it was not even a real psychologist with a proper Dr. in front of her name, but a Mrs. in front of her name kind of healthcare worker. I am not actually crazy, I just need some pills. I said that I might even be bipolar because I am sometimes happy too, but Dr. Winger, as usual, was very dismissive of my situation.
How would she like it if she was depressed and I just tried to send her to an unlicensed crazy doctor? So frustrating!