A little down lately. Happens every bloody spring. A shrink once explained to me that when your environment bursts into bloom and you're still in winter/hibernation mode, it takes the brain a while to "thaw". And this, apparently, is why I have to waste the first few oh-so-precious weeks of a Canadian spring feeling like Satan has been tap-dancing on my head in stiletto heels. When I'm miserable like this I crave isolation and companionship simultaneously. Drives me frickin' nuts.
I need to socialize more. I should return to Phil the Cowboy Poet's Tuesday night poetry slams. I haven't seen Phil in so long he probably thinks I'm in jail for killing my ex-husband or something.
Physically tired but mentally alert - the story of my life. I'm hoping that as I blog I'll just drift into sleep right here at the keyboard, with my nose on the space bar or perhaps the letter B. (You gotta have a dream. ) I know I'll shut down sooner or later, but damnit why can't it be sooner?
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