Early winter before the snow starts falling, when everything is cold and grey, and darkness swallows up the world, always makes me sad.
Today I just can’t seem to shake it. All the giddiness of yesterday, evaporated like the almost-snow in the air. The immenseness of the fact that we moved here just over a half year ago and I’m still grappling with finding the time to find friends makes me feel terribly alone today. It doesn’t help that I’ve been stricken with an unusually fierce bout of procrastination and self doubt.
My writing sits and lurks at me from the screen, like a couple of pickled eyeballs in a jar. It taunts me. I can’t finish a paragraph further than I’ve already gotten. My workshop deadline is next week and I know I won’t be finished.
I hate days like this. Wanting attention, but not to give it. Wanting alone time, but wanting good company even more. Wanting something decisive to happen, but still in limbo with just about everything.