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To everything there is a season

It’s winter. Cold and snowy and grey. Very grey. If you’re missing that particular shade where you live, it’s because northern Illinois stole it all and stuffed it into every available crevice. And I know it’ll stay that way for the foreseeable future, with occasional forays into colors that have a grey overlay. February is just basically pewter, with varying shades of tarnish for variety, so I have that to look forward to.

I’m tired. As in, I haven’t been getting enough sleep the last couple of nights and I could put my head down on my desk right this second and indulge in a wee snore. Will I? Nope, haven’t hit critical mass and I save naps for those. The full moon and society going batshit crazy the last week have taken a toll on me as well. I’m so tired of humanity’s bullshit. FFS people, we’re all on this rock together and ain’t no one getting out alive.

I do work to stay in the moment and appreciate what I can. Last night I noticed that, at 5 pm, it was not pitch dark. Appreciated the snot outta that. But today we’re staring down another winter storm, this one with the potential to grace us with a layer of ice before fwoomping 3-5 inches of snow atop it. Snow I can handle; ice, thank you, no. I had a nerve-wracking driving in ice experience when I was student teaching, lo those many years ago, and I swore to myself then that that experience was a one-and-done. I didn’t have many “young and stupid” events back in the day, but the ones I had were memorable.

Nature has the right idea in winter. To everything there is a season, and winter is the season for rest. Hunker down, hibernate, recover from the autumn and gather strength for the spring. Prior to the Industrial Revolution humans were more like that; electricity gave us the potential to keep on goin’ through the cold and dark. Don’t get me wrong, I have zero desire to return to those Luddite days. I would be a terrible, terrible pioneer woman. My zombie apocalypse plan is to throw myself in front of the advancing hoards so my sons have a chance to escape. But pushing back against my SAD is exhausting in the bleak midwinter. It makes everything harder when you have to rev up energy to do the simple things, like decide on breakfast when you’re barely functional and the coffee isn’t ready. It’d be awesome if the world could accept winter hibernation, all of us yawning and stretching out of our respective caves mid-April, happy and rested and energetic.

That’s all fine and whiney, Jen, but ya gonna do anything about it?

Eh, just the standard Happy Lamp/parabolic heater/hot tea trifecta. Why do I have to do anything about it, anyway? Doing is a big part of the problem in the first place. Doing is so much harder in the winter. Doing requires effort and that needs delicate rationing. It’s like this every year, so at least I recognize that. A couple years ago I was on Pinterest, pinning one sauna after another, not knowing it was simultaneously posting to Facebook. Friends were concerned that I’d been hacked. No darlings, it’s just winter, I’m trying not to bellyflop off the deep end.

So, in long-winded conclusion, it’s winter. Again. Deeply, bone-chillingly, annoyingly winter. I don’t anticipate warmer days for another 8-10 weeks, at the earliest. Bah.

Published inEveryday LifeUncategorized

4 Comments

  1. M M

    It’s summer. Hot and humid and sweaty. Very sweaty.

    I too am tired. This heat is sapping my already low reserves of energy.

    But the colour! So much colour. Vivid blue skies, flowering Callistemons, Rainbow Lorikeets, Sulphur-crested Cockatoos.

    The Australian summer is brutal but beautiful.

    Wishing I could share some colour with you, and maybe find a happy medium on temp.

    • Jen Jen

      I would love to have some color. And scent. And outdoor sound. It’s still snowing, and the only sound is that of plows and snowblowers. Roars and whirrs and clangs. But, another day of winter behind me means another day closer to spring. 🙂

  2. […] went without argument. Helped that it was Colorado and winters were considerably milder than the eternal hell on earth we have now in northern Illinois. Thank god we finally found socks he’d wear; at $14/pair I die a little inside when we buy […]

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