The time suck

Another day went by without me getting any worthwhile writing done. Or proofreading the upcoming story. Today I had to drag myself out of bed and barely got the kids to school on time, let alone in time for second breakfast.

I understand Gandalf’s pain, I really do.

As I trudged back to my house, I had to concede that I’m depressed.  Which I know seems odd, like shouldn’t I know.

But I don’t, not always. Depression is subtle. It creeps and accretes. At least it always has for me. And now that I recognize the problem I can take steps to deal with it.

Step One: Force the normal routine. Despite my complete lack of desire to do anything, tomorrow is my daughter’s birthday and Saturday is her party. I have two dozen cakepops to make today and a house to clean.  I cannot let that little girl down. Getting up and moving always helps anyway.

Step Two: Fresh air. I always suffer from seasonal depression, but my super sensitive baby skin doesn’t allow for tanning. This winter has been especially harsh. A major injury in addition to very real possibility that new Ice Age had started. Lots of fresh air will help. Ignore the sub fifty weather. Once all three kids are at school, I’ll put on a few layers and open the windows. Sunshine would help more, but mother nature isn’t playing ball.

Step Three: Write and read. Those are my two favorite things to do, and I just haven’t done either for days. Tonight, once the cake pops are done, I’m going to crack a book. Not a friend’s book, but one of the ones on my shelf. I’m also going to leave Scrivener up and force myself to get something new written today. I’m looking for only 100 words. A small but meaningful goal.

Hopefully, tomorrow I’ll open my eyes and feel like I actually want to get out of bed.

 

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