The Infinite Sadness
We’re now fully enmeshed in the time of year where my metabolic imperative is to fatten up, and I’m trying very hard to not replace my rice bowl with a pasta bowl and my cold cereal with a toasted bagel and cream cheese because I don’t live in a cave and spend my days on the tundra hunting for food.
It’s quite possible that this underlying metabolic tension is what’s fueling at least a good portion of my general disconnect and malaise lately, one which has had my flailing around on questions of blogging platforms, blog design, and the short list of blog posts that I very much want to write but just haven’t had the wherewithal to go anywhere near.
We’re also at that exact transitional part of the year where the weather is beginning slowly to shift and eventually slide into patterns that increasingly will make it difficult to keep up he motivation necessary for the daily walk, something I skipped entirely yesterday, along with going out to read over coffee, because it was in the low forties and raining.
There’s been at least two days this past week where my attentional capacities faltered to the point of being unable to make any decisions or even feel any preference on what to sit and watch, not to mention the slow accumulation of blog posts and articles that I haven’t been reading.
Yesterday amounted to a precipitous mood dive, one I tried and am trying to address by having rearranged my usual intentions for the coming week with regards to where to go for my weekly breakfast out and whether or not to go out to read over coffee, in order finally to buy Firefly on iTunes, because I haven’t actually owned a copy of it since the DVDs, and it was on my mind due to this weekend being seventeen years since the fandom marvel that was Browncoats Backup Bash.
The weather today returned to the low fifties and no rain, so at least it was easy to return to the daily walk after just one day away from it, and hopefully most of this week stays reasonably close to the same, because this isn’t the time for me to lose the momentum of a healthy daily habit that’s been consistent for months now, all the more so because if that momentum falters, I’ll only beat myself up over it.
Someone suggested today that “just leaving shit unplugged for hours does fix things” but the problem is that this doesn’t work for one’s life. You just sort of have to stay plugged into it, all the time, no matter what.
Is it all just seasonal affective disorder? Or is seasonal affective disorder just the the cherry of metabolic imperative atop the sundae of the general, ongoing, ever-present slide toward eventual and near-certain doom? What’s more, is all of this what the kids these days call a “word vomit”?