TGI what?

February 29, 2008 § Leave a comment

It is with some small amount of disbelief that I realize tomorrow is only Friday. Friday, indeed.  The week has presented itself as arduous, relentless and reeking of very little other than work.

And yet, as Americans, we are to be grateful for that. For a job. For a place. Well, I am. Glad to be working, that is.

I am also exhausted, have had conversations no longer than perhaps 30 minutes at a rush with my husband and have been able to stare at the pages of a very good book I am presently reading for no more than 10 minutes at a time without my eyes longing to look elsewhere if anywhere at all.

What is it? Lack of exercise, you say. Too much caffeine. Unbalanced diet. Boredom. Fatigue. An out-of-control to do list. Yes?

Yes,  perhaps all of the above.

But most of all, it’s the color grey. The ground is grey. The sky is grey. The horizon is grey. Somehow the yard is grey. It’s pervasive. Half my wardrobe is also grey.

A little sun, is that too much to ask? I have not signed on to live at either of the poles, nor the Scandinavian countries where dark is dark and sun is sun and you get either one or the other. No. Nor have I continued the pattern of my northern childhood where it turned grey and cold and so we would go merrily outdoors with the same aplomb to play as we did in the summer, only for the winter, we layered ourselves in coats  and matching mittens and scarves that were yearly knitted for us and thought it was glorious to pitch ourselves around in the snow and the half light.

 I need some sun. We all need some sun.

And suddenly, there it was, on the table in the guise of an offer from a local magazine editor to get on a plane, stay at a resort for 4 days and nights, completely free of charge, take along HM at cost and all I had to do, besides melting myself on the Mexican Riviera with my husband was take pictures and write about the experience. Hell, that’s something I do compulsively anyway, no matter where we go. Even when we stay home, I take pictures of our surroundings and write about it. That’s a cinch.

But, alas. The trip was fully booked before we were advised of this sumptuous opportunity. We have been denied a mid-winter sun near the equator. The next like opportunity will  come mid-summer, said the editor. I’ll take it, I said positively.

In the meantime, this glassy-eyed “fatigue” is nothing more than a bit of seasonal affect disorder I suppose, one with which I must wrestle, me and everyone else in the Gateway area as we bump and hustle along in the grey light, murmuring “excuse me” to one another, all the while hoping for the sun to break through and really, at least really mean it.

I did see two fat robins in the yard the other day. I dearly hope they didn’t find things too intemperate, or…grey.

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