The sky was pink tonight

Tonight when I left work, the western sky was pink with yellow streaks.  It was not dark outside.

From The American Academy of Family Physicians – “It’s a fact:  Your risk of clinical depression is three times higher right now than at any other time of the year!  And the hormone shortfalls behind the cold-weather blues are linked to a host of other health hassles, including headaches, back pain, achy joints, fatigue and more.”

Yup.  That about sums it up.

Oh Summer how I miss you.  When people say you are humid and hot, I agree right away.  I love that about you.  I look at you and I am happy.  I love how you make me feel.  Your warmth surrounds me.  Your moist air touches my skin.  Your arms hold me in a sensual embrace.  I love to wake up on a Sunday morning and make a cup of coffee and get the paper off the front steps.  Then out to the deck with my puzzle and pencil and dog to be with you and the sun rising up on a sharp angle toward noon.  I love to sit with you at the end of the day.  After work, in my shorts and flip-flops and tank top and sunglasses.  I like to look at my bare feet with their shiny bright pink toenails.  The feeling of your partner Sun going into my skin.  The pool.  The lake.  “They” say Sun is not good for me.  I do care about that but the feeling he gives to me is worth a little risk.  A small treat now and then.  Sitting in Maine in the front yard.  The comfy padded lawn chair and the novel and the sudoku and the crosswords.  Looking up at the boats going by.  A cruise around the pond in the afternoon.  Floating on the blow-up rafts or bobbing around on the noodles.  The only good thing about heading home from Maine, for I would spend all the warm months there if I could, is heading straight south and then west and having sun company all day.  A little extra to finish up the weekend.  Hurry back Summer my friend.  I can’t wait to see you again.



I‘ve got the blues.  I’m fighting it like crazy but I do.  It’s winter.  This happens to me every year.  And every year I know winter is coming and I swear to not let it happen again and it does no matter what I do or how hard I try.  And the older I get, the worse it gets.  I just hate winter and cold weather and how it’s dark when I drive to work and it’s dark again when I get out and drive home.  I don’t care if I do anything or go anywhere.  And my feet are freezing.  All the time.

Depression.  That’s it.  Plain and simple.  I use my energy to go to work and not be down and poopy when I’m there.  I don’t want to go out on the weekend.  I never even took a shower last Sunday.  I did brush my teeth and put on sweats.  I think that was it.  I did laundry because I needed the clothes to go to work.  And the only reason I left the house on Saturday was because the dog had a vet appointment.

I haven’t even been blogging as you may, or may not, have noticed.  I don’t feel like talking about anything.  I don’t feel like I have any opinions.  Quick.  Get the thermometer.  This could be serious.  I talked at length to my friend Susan about this in the fall, how I wouldn’t let it happen again this year but it just isn’t working.

I don’t care if I blog.  I don’t care if I stick to my diet.  I don’t care if I watch TV.  I don’t care if I go anywhere.  I don’t care if I get a manicure and a pedicure.  I do want to play scrabble on line.  That’s about it.  And read in bed.  And sleep.

It’s snowing now.  I will have to go out and clean off my car and move it for the plow.  I hate doing that.  It’s too cold and wet to be outside.  If I wasn’t having dinner with my friends tonight, I would not shower or get dressed today.  And don’t get me wrong, I’ll make myself shower and put on make-up and my favorite jeans.  And I’ll go out and have a good time.  But the effort to make myself do that will be huge.  And I’ll be complaining to myself all the time I’m in my car freezing waiting for it to warm up.  And I’ll have to stop and fill my tank and I keep waiting for it to be warm to stand there and pump but that isn’t happening until May.  And when I get home tonight, I’ll try to convince myself that I will go somewhere and do something tomorrow.  I’m not really hopeful this will happen.

Intellectually, I know my life is pretty good.  Not too bad at all.  But it doesn’t seem to matter.  I’m depressed.  Just reread.  This is a big downer but I feel a need to explain why I’m not writing.  If not to you, to myself.

My New Year’s Resolution

This one will be short and sweet.  I reread and even though I feel it sounds a little cranky my dear reader, it should be interpreted more as ironic.

I’m too fat so I should vow to lose 2 pounds every week – no excuses.  I should vacuum and dust, clean my condo perfectly every single weekend, even though I‘d rather be beat with a stick.  I work too late and the dog is alone too long – no more – leave the house at 7:15 and be back by 5:45 – no matter what.  I should only buy organic produce no matter what the cost.  I should be the most patient tolerant person on earth no matter what some angry misguided asshole says to me.   I should never go out for sushi or ever buy a magazine even if Terry Bradshaw is on the cover, and save every dime I have for retirement even though I could freaking drop dead tomorrow.  I should buckle down and peel the hated wallpaper in my living room and hallway and up the stairs even though it’s probably way too big a project for me to do by myself, because it will look tons better painted my favorite off white color.  I should keep my car clean so anyone who gets in it says this car looks like it‘s brand new.  I should recycle even though the company who empties the dumpsters at my condo dumps the garbage and the recycling bins all together into the same filthy truck.  I should try not to swear so much so I seem like a “lady“.  I should do the dishes every single night so I always get up to a clean kitchen, no matter how tired I am, no matter how late it is.  I should power wash my deck and seal it first thing in the spring so it looks nice all summer.  And I should not read one more book, even one more word until I’m done with every chore.  Sounds like fun, doesn’t it?


So here my real New Year’s resolution.  I’m making one.  Only one.  I’ve been thinking about this for a while.  May I suggest you make the same one.

I’m going to try not to be so fucking hard on myself.

Geez.  I’m feeling better already.