I am just going to admit it: my depression is reaching epic proportions, and I must try to do more to combat it. I took a walk of a full mile yesterday. Exercise is a potent and often under-used anti-depressant. I try to walk every day and have been managing to take at least short walks. One can find other things to help (one being me, as usual). I have read that doing virtually anything can relieve depression, and I have found that sometimes that works. Not always, but often.
This by means of introduction to another Tired Tuesday post. Writing has often worked as an anti-depressant for me. Yesterday I finished a letter to a friend and walked with it to the post office (part of my mile). By the end of the walk, I was feeling not too bad. Oh dear, as I type this I begin fear today’s post qualifies for Truman Capote’s snide remark, “That’s not writing, that’s typing.” Then again, I can’t worry about dead critics.
Once again I throw in a picture to pep up the post. It is Vincent Price in House of Wax, rather a fun old horror movie. I wonder if there is a stage version of it. Or at least a play about a wax museum where the figures come alive and terrorize the other actors and the audience. Perhaps I should write one. That would have to be more than mere typing.
In any case, I am over 250 words. After missing two days (why do I feel the need to call attention to my failings?), I say OK. I am off to do more to combat my depression!

