You can never go home again

This Sunday night depression gets kind of bad sometimes. I'm sitting on my computer doing absolutely nothing blinking back tears. Why? This really does happen to me once a week. The idea of starting out another work week seems really bleak. Is this my life? 2 days out of 7 that I look forward to and the rest just filler? I know I shouldn't live that way. It's not healthy. I cannot wait to go to MD for Thanksgiving. I just need a break. I need to get out of Atlanta for a while. I got nostalgic about living in DC the other day. Wendy and I were talking about sleeping on the subway and I just remembered what my life was like when I used to ride the metro to work. I was a different person then. For a second, I missed it. I don't know what "it" actually is. Not really riding the metro, but being there. Being in that city. The city that is so strange and foreign to me now. I've thought about moving back. I know it wouldn't be the same. Not the same as it was, but the same as I see it in my head. Sometimes when I visit, I do miss it. I want to stay. Other times, I'm ready to go back. I think it's related to how much...uhh.. fun I've had there. Sometimes I wish I could just meet my mother for tapas or go running and get bagels with my dad more than a few times a year. I did it to myself though. I moved 500 miles away for no reason.