About this time of year, I’m fed up with the grey and gristle of winter. I’m tired of donning heavy boots and gloves and hats and coats. I’m tired of watching how I drive, since I have tires that no one would use for a tree swing. They’re that small.
It’s even more debilitating because I actually like this season. I enjoy shoveling snow. I feel winter energized instead of summer sluggish. I don’t miss weeding.
So when I say I’m fed up, I’m fed up. It’s mid-February, and I’ve had it. The groundhog is no friend. The salt on my car is an inch think. The mud in our garage is about the same.
Worst of all, I’ve entered Low Gear. It’s that malaise where I put off everything I can. I avoid any deadlines that don’t have Today written on them. I even nap. I know I’m doing this; mentally I understand and try talking myself into a course correction. Physically I resist; it’s even difficult to make it to the health club. Emotionally, I resist all the more. I just want to hibernate like a bear.
The only redeeming feature is that the days are becoming noticeably longer. When the sun does shine, it’s a pleasure to see it at six thirty in the evening. Hopefully this continuing trend in increased daylight will lift me from low gear. Failing that, I’m waiting for my tulips to bloom.
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