Exercise
It’s hot.
I don’t have an air conditioner. If I did, I would put it in the bedroom, and then I would never come out. So not having an air conditioner is a sanity-preserving measure.
For years my shrink has been telling me that if I got more exercise, I might not be so depressed. Easy for him to say, he’s a lanky ectomorph. But I’ve always said that I don’t have time to exercise. Now fate has called my bluff. I have nothing but time. And after last week’s humilating game of tag, I think it’s time to do something.