Call it post holiday blues.
I’ve got major slumpage going on. The respiratory infection I’ve picked up along the way isn’t helping much. Add to this the fact I have asthma which is often affected by weather and the wind outside is 50-60mph, then my cup is definitely less than half full. I can’t leave the house because I find it hard to breathe, and if I don’t get a daily walk I get majorly crabby.
Time to crank up the music and re-energise whilst house cleaning. There’s much to look forward to next week – goth gig on Friday (Bad Pollyanna + Ashes to Angels + William Control), followed by a free local music festival on Sunday headlined by the amazing Bridie Jackson & the Arbour. Him Underfoot invariably cries when he sees Bridie, I invariably cry when BP play Invincible Girl. Oooh that’ll cheer us up!
I suspect part of the downward mood is caused by my recent research for my current writing project based in World War 1. There are nights when what I’ve been reading renders me incapable of sleep. I’ve had to put all research to one side after 6pm and switch to innocuous urban fantasy (currently reading Anne Rice’s Blood and Gold). I’ve also been visiting various WW1 exhibitions which are leaving me an emotional wreck. I’ve scheduled a year’s work for this project, and if this is how it leaves me in month one, then heaven help me by the end. Still, I believe in the story I’m crafting; when the bones of something you’ve written make people cry then you know you are onto a story that deserves to be told.
There’s something quite soothing about blogging these thoughts out of my system (though the reader may not agree!). It’s been a bugger of a year, and emotionally I’m only just beginning to deal with some of the fallout. Scotland helped me to see a way forward; I think I underestimated just how much of an emotional journey it would take me on.
Take care, gentle folk.