Morose Despite Citrus

Eating an orange. It's one of the first of the new crop of navels. It's not very sweet. I have't eaten oranges since they began tasting odd (along with everything else) as a result of the still-unexplained illness I had about six months ago. In fact everything still tastes a bit odd, though less extremely so than was the case at first. The lingering effects of the illness probably accounts for the lack of sweetness in the orange.

As expected, the day was gray and chilly, but I'd have expected to be more pleased than I am by this. Things have come to a terrible pass when I can't be cheered by even something as delightful as an overcast sky, but there it is. I'm moping around like somebody with seasonal affective disorder. Not even the prospect of the imminent removal of the distracting Christmas lights from the neighborhood improves my mood. Maybe I need drugs. Maybe I just need dinner.