In Steve Martin's book Shopgirl, Mirabelle has to keep fighting 'the immobilizing depression that would otherwise surround her and seep into her body like a poisonous fog.' I loved the book just for that one sentence. Though there's certainly more to like in it. There are days when depression really is like a fog, whether it reaches a level where you need medication or not. Nothing you can think or make yourself believe can lift it. It starts by clouding your morning with gloom and self doubt and goes on to blank out every other positive flicker throughout the day. Mostly without any reason. Most days we are lucky to call it PMS. But today, it's not even that.