Can somebody remind me of that fact every now and again? I seem to have trouble remembering.

In case it isn't bloody apparent, Eric and I have been, um, tense with each other lately. He's feeling stress from work, though he doesn't speak much about that with me. He's feeling stress from his health; some of the weight he lost at the time of his initial diagnosis of diabetes has started to creep back. He's now feeling further stress because the Saturn has started consuming oil. (More about that later.) As a result, he's been sinking deeper and deeper into a funk.

I have difficulties with somebody around me, someone who I love, feeling sad. Somehow, in my twisted mind, it becomes my responsibility to bring them back out of their depression. Don't try to explain to me that it's not; I know intellectually that my efforts are at best wasted and at worst unwanted. This is clear to me now, in my geographical and chronological distance from the person in question. When Eric is down, though, clear thinking flies out of the window, and I become a cross between an armchair psychologist and a court jester.

Of course, my efforts fail to help. Of course, he resents my trying and will snap at me. Of course, my feelings get hurt, and then we spend the next hour barking at each other. He's still depressed, and now I'm depressed, as well. Oh, it's been a fun-filled weekend at the Richmond residence!

The whole thing could have been averted had I made an effort to get out and about, on my own, this weekend. Eric and I don't do much apart from each other, outside of work. Perhaps that's a result of having shared a mutual group of friends in college; after high school, I could probably count on one hand the number of friends I had that were not also close to Eric. Hanging out separately would have meant splitting up the group, so it didn't often happen. Now that the group no longer exists, we haven't had much luck with breaking the habit. The closest I've come is to make a large number of friends online.

I should get involved in more activities on my own. The thought of doing so, unfortunately, also summons a mental picture of my husband, sitting alone on the sofa watching TV in the dark. I don't want to leave him alone, and I know darn well that he's unlikely to get involved with other people without me - he's too much of an introvert. I've tried encouraging him to accept his coworkers' invitations for drinks, but that's been unsuccessful.

And, in the end, with what would I get involved in the first place? Most of the organizations around here seem to be designed for wealthy, bored housewives. Maybe I should focus on finding an outlet before I consider the consequences of following up on it.

That's a lucky thing, too; Eric took it to the Saturn dealer for a check, and anything serious should be covered under that warranty, right? Boy, I hope so; Eric almost turned purple at the thought of making car payments for the next four years and having no car to show for it. He's rented a car for now, but if the Saturn needs extensive work, he'll have to return the rented one and take my Geo. We'd been lightly discussing bicycles before now, but now we may have to buy one and make it my primary mode of transportation.

I reached for the phone last night to call my dad about the whole mess. It was a gut reaction; my dad's not a mechanic by any stretch, but he does know a few things, and I'm inclined to call him about problems like this. Eric almost bit my head off before I could dial a number though. Best not to worry our parents unduly, I guess. I wouldn't want to have his parents find out, but only because Rita would be likely to try to send money. My parents are good for sound advice, but I think I will wait until we at least have a diagnosis of the problem before causing them any concern.

Trust me when I say that this was not an expenditure that we needed at the moment, both monetarily and emotionally speaking.

Saturday morning, I felt positively green. I was grateful for the relatively slow pace we had until around noon, and by the time the post-lunch crowd rolled in, I was better able to help them. It's a good thing, I must say, that the librarians will only be working a few each of these shotgun Saturday shifts this summer. Having to take all "breaks," including lunch, in a back office while remaining on duty the whole time makes for a long day.

Really, though, it wouldn't have been that bad except for three things. First, the people who operate our electronic catalogue were playing with it all day, keeping the patrons from being able to accurately search for books by title. Second, we had no fewer than three little girls come in search of the second Harry Potter book, which the catalogue listed as being in the library, but which we were unable to find. I'm sure that those girls' personal frustration was compounded by the fact that I was sitting behind the desk, happily reading my own copy of that very book. Third, I got an email from an former patron who was looking for an audiobook he had gotten from us about three years ago. He thought the title was "Death of Reason," but he wasn't sure, and all he could say for certain was that it was written by a lawyer and concerned "the overuse of 'process' in America and the resulting loss of individual accountability." I was and am stumped; I couldn't find anything by that title, or by any combination of those subject terms. Any ideas?