I had an apple after it was finished.

No verbosity, no dawdling.

I have been feeling depressed for the past few weeks. Not in a sense of self-destruction or suicidal ideals, simply...depressed. I couldn't find a reason why, instead attributing my unfortunate state to a combination of smaller internal and situational factors. Those who attempted to help me became frustrated with my inconsolable predisposition. Others didn't care enough to try.

Last night, I walked to sit on my bed, and accidentally stepped upon a protruding metal piece from the wheel of my former-canopy bed frame for the 19985662nd time in my life. I got up on a whim and walked into the garage. At a few minutes past midnight, I retrieved a few of my father's tools; among these, a keyring set of Allen wrenches, pliers, and a flathead screwdriver. I stood my mattress up against the wall, followed by my box-spring. I opened iTunes.

And I single-handedly dismantled my bed frame.

Given, I did need my father's help carrying the un-dismantle-able (not a word) lower frame to the basement. I placed all the bolts, washers, and screws into a small Ziploc bag, and took them downstairs along with the metal poles. I was officially sleeping on a mattress on a box-spring on the floor. Very low to the ground. I enjoyed the new perspective.

I figured, why stop there?

By the time I'd transferred all my space-consuming, unused books to the storage closet across the hall, dusted, reorganized, vacuumed, did three loads of previously-neglected laundry, and showered, it was ten o'clock in the morning.

And I felt fantastic.

[Physical labour + music is the official cure to all emotional imbalances. Next time I'm feeling emo, I'll remember to break out the DDR set.]