How sick was I of January? So sick of it, I waited until February to write about it.
If my last post and this one seem in a similar vein, it's no surprise. I don't do winter very well even in the best years. This time I thought I'd survived the holidays in good enough form and started the new year intending to be all productive and reasonably even-keeled mood-wise.
And then it all sort of fell down into a giant pile of meh, which included a stubborn head cold, stressful work days, a hellishly itchy eczema outbreak, insomnia, carbohydrate abuse, and sullen spells.
My sister had given me an electric fleece blanket for Christmas, and it took pretty much all I had not to just crawl under it and tell people I'd see them in April.
Yes. This is a whiny post. I'm not proud, but there it is. However, I'm beginning to come around from my winter pout.
Yesterday I went to the hardware store for the first time in months. Months! Hard to believe. And I have a few things going this weekend that I'll blog about soon.
Think of this post as my little way of letting you know that I've finally put down the bowl of cheesy mashed potatoes and the winter helping of self-pity. Spring is on its way!