Thank goodness we are nearing the end of January. Even as I sit with bright sunlight pouring through the window and warming my shoulder, I am aware of the dragging feeling that, for me, epitomises January.
This year I tried to fool myself – I blogged about all the positive things that came out of 2011 and, I thought, lined myself up for a positive start to 2012. It didn’t work. Since then I have retreated into my shell, occasionally poking my nose out to reassure myself that yes, I still hate January.
Setting goals and achieving them has not worked. Although I have submitted four poems to various places- one a week as I have promised myself for 2012 – still I feel glum.
Would I feel better if the temperatures settled to a ‘proper’ January low instead of hiccuping between -5 and 12 degrees I wonder? At least then I could curl up in front of the log stove and embrace winter. Though from previous years’ experience, that still would not allow me to endure January with anything approaching enthusiasm.
What is it about this, the first month of the new year that oppresses me so? If anyone has thoughts to share, please let me know. Or, alternatively, just poke me with a stick in February to wake me up!