There's a certain something in the air. It sneaks past the frozen solid mucus in my nose and creeps into my bones. It settles in and refuses to leave. It masquerades as grumpy moods and teary eyes.
Oh, wintertime blues, hello again.
I want to laugh at myself most of the time. I mean, how good does your life have to be? How many blessings can you count just by looking around? Other than a solid gold BMW, what else do you want in life than what you already have?
It doesn't make any sense really.
But I'm just so sad. And angry. But not all the time. Just, you know, every few minutes. One of the kids looked at me funny or said something wrong. There's nothing to watch on TV. The dog is whining. I have to clean up the house again. The laundry is breeding. It's always something.
Did I mention I'm also a nag? Trust me, my family feels that way. Lately I feel like I can't say anything that doesn't receive an eye-roll, sigh, or exasperation in return.
I'm not trying to annoy them. In fact, I love them and I'm just trying to keep them safe and well and happy.
But I'm doing it all wrong. Down to the shoe I had the nerve to remind someone to tie. And the gloves I made another someone find. The jacket I made someone wear. And the dinner I didn't cook fast enough - or, weirdly, cooked at all.
I can't win, that's how it feels. I'm running and running and running and running and running and the race just never ever ends.
There's the finish line! It's mocking me now.
And now and then the crowd cheers and I feel good.
But then I notice I'm still running.
It's very nonsensical, I know.
I'm pretty sure I need a long, long vacation.
And a lot of chocolate.