Yesterday was hot but beautiful here in the San Fernando Valley. The sky was a brilliant blue, my garden had nooks of deep shade under a pergola draped with the cool green leaves of still-blossoming wisteria.
But I spent most of the day inside. I had a vague sense of unease coupled with an overpowering ennui. At first I thought I was just tired. We had a busy day the day before, entertaining family. But that really hadn't worn me out. We kept it simple, people brought things to eat and drink, and the afternoon was full of lively talk and a lot of laughter.
So why was I feeling so glum? I moved through the day listlessly, trying to motivate myself to at least clean up the remaining dishes, make the bed, fold some clothes. All I could manage was a half-hearted attempt to finish a book I'd started, and that didn't hold my attention for long.