It seems like every single day is a National Day of these days. Some are pretty stupid, and all are a thinly veiled attempt to raise awareness for something and get people talking. This is a good thing for some issues, if we look past the contrived nature of it all.
A friend just turned 30 the other day, saying he hoped this new decade was great. I felt the need to tell him that my 30s were better than my 20s, and that my 40s would likely be even better. My life has neatly arranged itself into decade-long chunks of time. Chapters of my life, if you will.
Years ago, I discovered the hilarious wonder that is Allie Brosh and her blog, Hyperbole and a Half. On a regular basis, I got to enjoy her brand of ridiculousness ("Clean ALL the things!"). I knew she battled depression, but she seemed to manage it at least to a level of being a functional adult. But then she disappeared. Not literally, but internet-wise. No more posts. She wasn't commenting on other blogs. People who knew...
Every once in a while, it all comes to a head. The house gets so cluttered and chaotic that we all kind of just go, "Ahhh!" and go on a cleaning and organizing rampage. (All but my son, who really, really hates such things. We make him help, dragging him along, metaphorically kicking and screaming.) We've hit one of those points.