Seems a bit early for the blues; not even January yet.
Although I'd swear on a stack of Geneen Roth: Breaking Free From Compulsive Eating books that all my clothes have become obsolete due to my unbearable girth, the truth is that I've gained a single pound. One. Not that I would weigh myself- that would be anti- Geneen all the way. But I may have inadvertently fallen against the scale on my way to showering my folds and skin flaps in the wee hours of this morning. I may have peered furtively past my multiple chins and burgeoning thighs, holding my breath in sheer horrified dread, expecting the scale to blow into shards of metal, tiny numerals flying upward, airborn by the sheer force of me.
So when the scale failed to register my failure as a human being, I'd hoped my feeling of malaise and general, all over "you suck, loser" would drown in my multiple cups of shiny black coffee. I began to search the archives of my unreliable brain for more reasons to suck with some authenticity. Lots of things came up, but they weren't new, or true enough to really swallow, genuinely disastrous, or even particularly interesting.
Still, I have the blues. My eyes burn and ears ring and I feel exhausted, even though I'm not low on sleep. I'm not stressed out or over committed, so there's no point in thinking that Christmas mania brought this on. We had zero concerts to attend this year- Not actually making it to church about 75 Sundays in a row meant no church program (the kids are grown out of that stage by now anyway-- the pagaent part- not the "you should take your kids to church" part). There was no elementary school Christmas concert because somehow while I was sleeping and worrying about sucking, Sam grew up. We missed Brian's work party because of his catering commitments, and I don't have a staff party since every day is a party at my work. We did attend three parties over the holidays, and they were the good variety, not the obligatory types. So, nothing to whine about there either.
The house is warm, and although the fridge freezer is steadily leaking watery frozen bits into the fridge and occasionally freezing my celery, we've had no major appliances break down, no transmissions burst on a highway in minus thirty seven billion, no children wandered off into traffic. We've suffered zero divorces this year, our parents are all still alive, and our offspring are not in trouble with the law. (to our knowledge, that is) Our jobs are intact, we've not suffered through a tsunami, earthquake, house fire, or random act of violence.
So clearly, asking "why?" is of little logical value. This defies logic.
And that's kind of depressing, really.
Kind of makes me wonder if a nap and a snack of chocolate almonds, Grandma's papanate, a mimosa, some bailey's and reindeer mix would be the perfect remedy?
'Cuz I seem to be clear out of valium and nobody in my neighbourhood is offering electric shock therapy.