The spiral into sadness happens rapidly without warning when it’s cold. With wintry air comes slippery sidewalks, layers on layers of clothing, and ice cold feet. All I want is to be able to walk down the street uninhibited by bulky boots, mounds of dirty slush, and the Winter Blues. I want to wear my favorite flow-y floral dress without worrying if I’m warm enough. I want to be free, not cooped up in a stuffy office breathing in moldy air while competing in a staring contest with a computer.
A break sounds nice. Ah, yes, some fresh air always does some good. But it’s too cold to go outside; the sun is useless. So there I sit planted, reminded by the automatic shut off feature of my space heater that I’ve spent too much time at my desk – too much time procrastinating, shopping for the best deal to a place where the sun shines effectively but too afraid to place the order. And although I’m frozen in time, my mind still races:
Where am I going to find the energy to play this open mic tonight?… …Straight hair or curly? …Am I taking care of myself? …Should I do cardio or weights? Or yoga? No, spin …What the hell is her problem? …Where did I leave my keys? …Do I still have to get a gift for my ex-boyfriend’s sister-in-law whose baby shower I was un-invited to because my ex and his new girlfriend of 2 years are drama queens? …Should I move to Nashville for a few months before moving to England? …Will it all work out? …How and when should I promote my new album (who even makes the CDs?)?… …Exactly how many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop?
Je ne sais pas. idk. I dunno. Who knows. No. freaking. clue.
I’m too frozen to move, too cold to think, and too iced to deal. If you’re looking for me, I’ll be in bed hibernating, hoping that the answers to my questions come to me at the first sign of Spring when the sun warms worries and turns gray fuzzy thoughts into sharp insights.
Because when it’s cold I just can’t.