I feel caught up in this vortex of late-Winter malaise and I'm unable to escape it. It doesn't help that I'm sick, either.
At least my productivity hasn't suffered. That's usually the first thing that goes out the window when I have emotional barnacles hanging off my hull, you know. But following the Doctorow method, I've actually written a script, made notes about a project, finished my year-end CD (the choosing, writing, design--I still have to get it printed and then throw it together), and today I reformatted a 150-page document that had been obliterated in the great laptop meltdown of '07. Now I can move forward with that. Listing everything I've accomplished lately almost makes me feel good about things.
I'm trying to figure out what it will take to get me out of this funk. I've occasionally wished that I was one of those folks who drank to forget their problems (not that I have any specific problems other than my brain malfunctions in cold weather), but drinking for me only intensifies those feelings.
Experience tells me that the only thing to be done is to ride it out and, once the sun makes a permanent reappearance in the Spring, everything'll be fine. I suppose I should feel lucky because this feeling usually strikes in, say, October, and this season it held off until February.
Just six more weeks until April, right?