I'm going to do a quick bit of housekeeping today before I move. Ah, yes. The inevitable has happened and Kenny Bloggins will be moving over to Tumblr. That is, unless I absolutely hate it there.
I'll be baking Christmas cookies this week. And baking. And baking. And baking. I'm hoping it helps to elevate my recent mood plunge seeing as how the two fat oranges I ate yesterday didn't do squat. Oh, this mood of mine. What to do with it? I'll tell you what I really want to do is crawl into a bottle of Maker's and stay there for the duration. But I won't, of course. I have a house to hold and a daughter to parent. And cookies to bake.
Where does this seemingly infinite sadness come from? I'm definitely feeling the familiar tug of homesickness the last part of this year, could that be it? But then, where's the anxiety coming from? The feelings of uncertainty and instability? Crikey! This is supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year and I'm waking up in the middle of the night with tears streaming down my face. Dave's been under the weather, so I'm sure that has a lot to do with it. Not connecting to him on a regular, hourly basis makes things tough. He's my sounding board, my decompressor. And I miss his hugs. (But I'm terrified of getting his sick.) So I kind of feel like I'm going it on my own, but I know it won't last. It won't last.
Also, just out of curiosity, does anyone out there have any natural remedies for The Blues?
Side note: I took a leisurely stroll out to our mailbox this morning (it's across the street in a bank of boxes for the whole neighborhood) with my coffee and had the epiphany that we live a very odd and wonderful life. It's mid-December and it's 72 at 8am. The sun is shining and I can hear seagulls in the sky. Now if only we could have our cake and our family, too.