My funk is quite blue today. I know it is because snow is falling from the sky, it is bitter cold and must mean I live in the wrong state. I have never lived in a warm state, so you would think I’m used to foul weather and gloomy days. Nada. I’m a hopeless fool. In my youth I didn’t suffer winter doldrums until the beginning of March, admittedly still too soon to anticipate/hope for/pray for/ insist on Spring. Bummer. But this misery begins now almost before really cold weather sets in. I’m understanding much better the need to move to Florida, at least briefly.
My sister resides there happily. No more icy roads, blizzards, moody skies. Better to have alligators, snakes, hurricanes, she thinks. One does not offset the other, for me. I can still hibernate through the worst of my weather, with little need to venture out, which, of course, leaves me feeling trapped or confined. See? I told you my mindset.
There will be a fine soup for supper, and grilled cheese to go with, and then off to my writers group to nosh on a great piece of poetry. I think I’ll take a hot chocolate with me and hopefully the room at the library will be warm.
The clock chimed 10, so if I’m to edit another 100 pages, I’d best get busy. My morning quiche is gone, my second cup of coffee is cooling, and while I can stay awake (a side effect of blue funk) I must get busy. You know, of course, there is just no end to editing. Which is why, however good you think you are at it, in the end a professional copy/developmental editor is required. By now I can recite this memoir. You see the problem.
Perhaps I will arrive at tomorrow’s blank page with something meaningful to say. But don’t bet the farm on it. Told you. Winter doldrums.