I tried to write yesterday, but produced nothing I could use.
This was going to be the summer that I did not let a day go by without leaving the house. This morning, I woke from a nightmare to realize that I didn't leave the house yesterday.
Right now, the depression is a wall that I cannot see over, and I certainly lack whatever energy would be required the climb over it. I think it's taller and thicker than it was yesterday.
This morning, I finished Larry McMurtry's Comanche Moon.
10:32 a.m. (this morning)