I suffer rather badly from the winter blues, I have a major
phobia being rubbed up the wrong way, I’m frequently assailed by intimations of
mortality, and I’m often being reminded that most of the things I thought I knew
are actually unprovable speculation. The resultant pit is sometimes a difficult
place in which to subsist, and so the fact is that I haven’t been quite myself lately. That’s why I’m going to
do something I don’t regard as being quite proper: I’m going to recommend the
reading of an old summer post of mine which was made 2½ years ago.
I just re-read it, you see, because somebody from Russia keeps on
reading it. (Don’t ask me why.) It isn’t half bad, even though I say so myself.
If you have five minutes to spare, it’s a decent little true story with a
reasonable smattering of humour. It’s here:
I’ll try to think of something original later.
2 comments:
I too suffer the Winter Blues, more like the Holiday Blues and so I empathize with your suffering. Day by day and sometimes minute by minute for me. I hope you are able to find some solace and compassion for yourself now.
I usually deal with it by remote observation, Wendy, but this year it's been difficult so far. I'm looking for something to re-energise me. Until then, I soldier on.
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