I know at least four of you are waiting for me to tell you all about our trip to the Juno awards, which happened, like, three weeks ago. And every day I think of more stuff I'd like to share with the world, or at least the seven of you who are still reading!
But it just ain't happening, folks.
This winter insists on dragging along… we had a few decent days of above-freezing weather, the snow banks were kind enough to melt slowly and not cause catastrophic floods, which was nice and I was very grateful. The layer of scum hung on for a little longer until we got a decent rain. More gratitude for a decent rain as opposed to a battering. The place just stunk the high heaven though. I need to seriously deal with some s**t. For real, and metaphorically. Well, anyways, now there's an inch of snow on the ground again. And it's cold. All weekend I mentally added up the list of outdoor work needing to be done, then having a lie-down to recover from the exhaustion of just thinking about gravel on the lawn, garbage that blew around all winter, dog poop, everything that didn't get done last fall before the winter hit. Now I'm secretly relieved to have the snow cover it up for another few days.
It's not totally about the weather though. I'm wrestling with depression again this year. Last year I was feeling exceptionally well this time of year, but not now.
You know what the big difference is? I KNOW THIS ISN'T PERMANENT.
So I'm feeling wretched. It is what it is. It's what's happening right now. I'll deal with it and I'll get over it.
I can get cleaned up and leave the house and put on a smile, and it's a real smile. I can laugh and enjoy people. It's exhausting though, and afterwards I need recovery time. The worst part is when people ask those innocent questions: How's it going? How are you? What's up these days?
I don't lie. I'll honestly say, the last few months have been a challenge.
I've figured something out though…
I need to be writing.
Why wasn't I writing all winter, when I needed excuses to not be outside freezing my butt off? My brain felt frozen. I'd open this thing up and stare at it and feel kind of blank. I've written something that's full of knots and I couldn't figure out how to untie them. The harsh winter is over now, it's spring, the season most normal people associate with new life, and which I associate with scum and dirt and manure and unpredictable skies. Difficulty.
You know what order I keep seeing? Things get worse before they get better.
I just need to take a few weeks off here… and untie some knots, rake up some dead grass, shuffle some words around, move some manure...