The short version: Winter came. I wasn’t ready.
The slightly longer version: January, which will probably never end, is the WORST month — Spring has never felt so far away, especially since the Polar Vortex claimed the lives of my radishes and my winter greens.
Plus, I’m trapped inside — whether at work, because work, or at home, because the weather is wretched.* I love our house, but I enjoy the yard even more…at this point, home-and-hearth feel more claustrophobic than cozy, since there’s nothing to do but stay inside and do housework while the grey sky flings soggy ice chips at the ground.
I have a talent for distracting myself; with enough obligations and expectations to fulfill, I can pretend (and convince others) that I’m coping well.
Right now, that talent is not standing me in good stead.