January 20, 2012
I know we're well into the New Year when I stop crossing out 2011 and write 2012 at the top of my checks. Christmas is over and we're moving through the liturgical year in a short season of Ordinary Time. What a symbolic title for how I was feeling on this particular Friday...all day long...
Ordinary shouldn't be negative. Afterall, it's derived from the word, order. Nothing wrong with that. Home Depot advertises storage bins for all us motivated to clean house, and get our houses in order. Taxes are due soon. Where are all those receipts and records? FAFSA forms urge to be filled out for scholarship opportunities.
And the list goes on.
My car is almost paid off. But in a few months, we'll need another one.
The mortgage is still due, for how many umpteen more months...
It's off to work we go. Our future is laid out for us.
It's been raining for almost two weeks. The sun peeks out to tease us every once in awhile. But it's not enough. I'm powering down. Craving Vitamin D. I need a little light shed in the dark corners of my gray mood.
The upside...I organized a jewelry cabinet. (see picture above)
I revamped our kitchen pantry.
Lo and Behold! I culled the paper trail piled high on the kitchen counter. Even my husband is impressed. Every kid gets a folder collecting mail and results from SAT scores.
With two kids off to college, I can almost breathe.
The evidence is in the fact that I regularly go through the fridge and leftovers. There are not as many science experiments growing in there.
But, I feel funky. Not in a good way. I'm blue. I'm gray ( a pale form of blue).
I feel trapped. I feel like nothing is fun. I feel like I have nothing to look forward. (gosh do I want to add that dangling participle!)
Add to all that, my writing stinks. Well, maybe not totally putrid, but I'm frustrated.
Rob isn't oblivious. He comments that I'm quiet. He asks what he can do to improve my morose melancholy.
He wines and dines me at a favorite restaurant in Young Harris, GA. The power goes out mid way through our meal and it's kind of fun. Everyone pulls out their phones navigating where they put their forks. Waiters bring tiny candles to light the way. Everyone is jovial and lingering.
I crawl slowly out of that dark place and smile as I take a bite of Death by Chocolate dessert. In fact, I chase after the last spoonful before Rob can get to it. (We shared.)
On Sunday, while getting ready for church, I say to Rob, "I feel like I need to apologize to you, for my funky bad mood. Like I'm entitled to it, a bad mood."
I'm not very good at putting up with other's snippy days and dark clouds, why should they put up with mine?
Rob says, "I care about your bad moods. I know how you feel. I understand that you feel trapped sometimes by obligations. I don't think, the hell with her, it's her problem.
"Honey, you don't need to apologize."
He adds, "I want to make it better."
Sooner or later, the sun will come out again, and I'll power back up. Until then, I know that I'm loved and I'll do the dance...the Mid Winter Funk.