There is always this weird, sort of depressive lull after Christmas, which was disheartening at first, the dreary sunless days, the half price gift baskets at Walgreens, the faded bedraggled decorations that have been up for the last month. I was crawling out of my skin at first, but the plan was to stay on task and finish up some projects, both art and writing related, and focusing on those seem to have abated some of the cabin feverishness. My mood improved enough that I even decided to stay here through the new year hoping to keep up some of the momentum on the narrative manuscript and go back Monday (I suspect this weekend would have been given over to unexciting things like housecleaning and errands had I gone back today anyway, so I might as well save myself from that.)
Tonight, I am eating Belgian seashell chocolates and putting in supply orders for the new year on cardstock, paper trimmer accessories, packing tape. And later, there will be more writing and some reading and a little bit of hiding from the world as long as I can.
