Gregory Todd Williams

Close on the heels of the autumn excitement, the autumn depression has finally arrived. My birthday was spectacularly weak thanks to most friends leaving on trips (to New York and Catalina), my father getting sick and going to the emergency room, starting work, and having my subconciouss taunt me with better times. The only part of the weekend that didn’t suck was going out for a drink with Erik on Friday night.

I sat around the empty house today dwelling in depression and listening to Kasey Chambers albums. I’d like to say, “Good times,” but “good” clearly isn’t the right word.

Worst birthday ever.