Writing is hard when you are depressed. It is a distinct if not special pain to hit that first key. It seems impossible, and a word, then a sentence, and God forbid a paragraph is Armageddon come to pass. This post is just something that must be done. I apologize in advance, but this is an act of an act, a scratching and clawing means to a modest end that appears to be slipping into an abyss but is really sinking into cushions that are soft but not comfortable. And so here we are, and at least one of us must be. This is a paragraph. This is the end.