Sometimes you're the windshield

I'm fairly certain that everyone has bouts of depression and funks that seem to just smack them down like good nails in cheap wood.

I wish it weren't so, but I don't know anyone who's escaped the hammer completely. This week, I had more than my fair share of pounding -- and it wasn't the good kind, if you know what I mean...

The good news is, this week, I'm the windshield, not the bug. This week, I'm the Louisville slugger, not the ball. The hammer is going back in the tool box.

When I'm depressed, I usually get snarly and mean and take my frustrations out on the lawn, the trees and bushes and Jeff. Not necessarily in that order.

But this time, I had Jon, Tina and Lisa drag me back to sanity Saturday morning over Mexican brunch. Team Vielee added a little more to the dosage Saturday night, and Jeff, Ali, and Team Ogden topped me off today.

And in one of those moments that rarely happen in real life but are the backbone of the situation comedy, I have a little bit of unexpected documentation to bring my weekend, and this post, to a tidy little close.

Alison's take-home folder yielded the gem to the right of your screen. I know it's a little cheesey, but nothing beats the sincerity of a person who's not quite 4-feet-tall.

So I'm borrowing Alison's little medal of honor as thanks to all of my heroes -- this week and all the weeks before. You know who you are.