I'm guessing a lot of people here will think this is a silly reason for being so damn depressed, but oh well.
I happen to work at the same place as my ceramic teacher, and last night she was there, and told me some really sad news. Her class takes place in her mother's basement, who's house is out in the country, and they have a family who they let move their trailer onto their lawn in exchange for helping at the farm. This family has three dogs, two mutts Pete and Belle, and a Gloden Lab, Butch. Well, about a month ago Pete, who's actually barely even a medium sized dog, went after the potbellyed pig, hurting it farely badly. A few days ago, he was at it again; like most any farm, there's a bunch of cats that hang around, and a lot of them are really sweet and just love attention. One cat in particular, called Pumpkin, is my favorite, though, because as soon as I sit down on the steps he hops up on my lap and is very affectionate. This is the cat that Pete decided to attack, and it may not survive. Now, the family trying to get rid of the dog because they have a new baby that's only a few months old and they're afraid Pete might decide to hurt it. I'm furious at what Pete did but I'm also shocked; he's always been a little rough with the cats, but he's never hurt one!
Sorry, I'm done now.