I'm still...

...alive.

If you want to call this "living."

A myriad of small disasters piled atop a large disaster, with precious little in the way of distraction.

The mailbox that remains empty day after day -- except for bills -- and the phone that doesn't ring -- unless it's someone asking for a favor that will never be returned -- don't help my mood.

Obviously, my emails and voice-mail messages are vanishing into some kind of electronic limbo, never to have any effect. Other messages remain in my mind, unwritten; I know sending them would be yet another act of futility.

Ordinarily, I can cope with the small stuff just fine. Not now.

The sad spiral goes on, and I'm running out of ideas to stop it.

Well, that's not entirely true. Better to say I'm running out of ideas I can count on to work, or even ideas that I can reasonably expect to work.

Not good.