I tried to not hate the winter. Winter piled it on. Snow. Rain. Gray. Cold. I am itching for spring, sick of my apartment, sick of shivering, looking forward to a sunburn. My fuse is short, my patience, scarce. Please, spring, come early!
I tried to make something creative and post it everyday in February. I made it through all of three days. Not that I didn’t make dinner, bake bread, and so forth on the other days, but had no mojo for photography and posting. Oh well.
(I suspect item #2 has something to do with item #1. The couch began to swallow me whole in the past few weeks. I’d wake up motivated, with a mental list for the days I am not in the classroom, sit on the couch with my computer and coffee (dining room is far too cold in the winter for morning use), and not move until 10, 11 am. This put a serious dent in any productivity; then, to make it worse, I’d feel bad about my sluggishness–which only made me feel sluggish. Lousy vicious circle!)
I tried to get my article revisions done this month. I still have three days, and am hoping to make that goal. I’ve gone from being excited about the piece to being fearful of it–did I revise too much? Too little? I’ve abused many of my academic friends’ good natures by sending them copies and prodding them for feedback, which they’ve been awesome about giving. Now I just need to sift through what I can and should judiciously use. I suspect my lack of mojo here also has something to do with #1.
I tried to lose some weight and exercise regularly. Despite the weather, this is actually going fairly well–down six since the last couple of days in December. I can’t lose more than a pound a week without eating dangerously-low levels of food, so I’m pretty much on target. The scale didn’t budge this week, but I suspect this has to do with water weight (I haven’t had much water this week, and had a most fabulous burger and fries on Sunday, and pizza and beer yesterday. Sweeeet. Or, rather, Saaaaalty). Hopefully next week I’ll see 1.5 or so, and be pretty close to my 10-pound March goal. All told I’m hoping to drop 13, but I’m not going to fuss too much about it.
And that’s about all the goings-on here. I know I’m not the only one aching for spring and the erosion of the snowbanks, and I know, too, we’ll all be complaining when it’s 97 degrees in July. In the meantime I’ll take the days getting longer, the temperatures staying, usually, in the 30s, and the hope that somewhere under the snow, the crocuses are getting ready to come up.