It's Wednesday. Hump day. Middle of the week. Won't be long now til I'm a productive member of society again - employed at a job, I mean.

In the meantime, I'm back to eBay. Depression makes the Winkle a little harder to discern, though some things, like the leaning tower of Pisa cheese shaker just scream to have their day on the bay.

I admit that I got thouroughly sick of it at the beginning of last month....

But, when I think back to what I was doing, it isn't any wonder I got deeply tired of something. After all, through July into August I was still taking care of Island Girl while working at the job-in-a-box, and doing eBay. When I stopped taking care of Island Girl I ramped up the eBay, getting up as early every Saturday as I did during the week days to go out to yard sales, haul everything home, photo and inventory, plus the listings. They don't write themselves, you know, they only seem to.

I think that's what The Hub thinks- that there's no effort. He sees me clattering away at the keyboard and thinks that the headings, the best catagory to list something in, the little turns of phrase just come to me. I'll own that they might come to me a little more easily than they come to everybody / anybody, but it's not effortless.

Anyway, then there's the packing up of everything, and carefully too. I wish I didn't have so much feeling for glass and china and household goods that are breakable. I wish I could get the winkle for something small, like jewelry, or sturdy, like engine parts. Well, okay, it's sort of inconcievable that I'd get much feeling for engine parts. Grey things sitting around in straightforward uselessness fail to move me.

But, anyway, the point I was trying to make is that, looking back on it, it's no wonder I became tired, depressed, and even a little sick. Still, it's like I have no internal regulator inside me. No guage with a little needle that goes into the red "Warning - System Overload!" In fact, while I was doing all of this, I was angry at myself for not getting enough done. I was upset that I couldn't keep clear the table that I use to photograph inventory and package it up. Then, once I got it cleaned up, I just couldn't bear to put another thing on eBay, though I had inventory waiting, and every time I thought about it I felt the most powerful urge to go to sleep.

People say to me "You're doing too much" and I just look at them uncomprehendingly. How can I be? Not all of my bills are paid, not all of my house is clean, not all of my goals are met. On one level, the intellectual level, I know there are only 24 hours in a day and I have to sleep during some of them. I am even aware that a certain amount of down-time, recreation even, is required for people to function well. I'm a big fan of useful hobbies. Cooking, gift crafts, gardening. I'd even tell people "Oh, eBay's just a little hobby" though I was reliant upon it to pay bills.

Maybe cooking, card making, and gardening AREN'T hobbies. Maybe they're just work of the household that I don't hate as much as, say, cleaning the bathroom. Maybe a hobby is done just for enjoyment. A walk in the woods ( though that builds streangth - so, okay, that's a bonus) or a drawing done not because it's good enough to frame and give to someone but just to try to improve for my own benefit...maybe those kinds of things would truly be hobbies.

"Time wasted is forever lost" But who decides what "waste" is? Who decides what "loss" is?