These days are really hard to weather. Two days ago, it was minus 30 something Celsius. Sheba and I were shivering with long johns and scarves on our walk. Today it is +6C. Sun shining, snow melting, puddles of water everywhere. Why am I not dancing for joy? If it was that easy, I would dance. I would kick up my heels and do a jig. The reality is I feel like hell. My shoulders feel heavy, weighed down like a linebacker. I am not loaded down with shoulder pads, just the weight of the universe. My legs feels like cement pillars. I can’t run anywhere. Where would I go anyways? I couldn’t even muster any power to go to aerobics today. Hell with it, was my attitude. I’m not feeling sorry for myself. I am sure there are others feeling the same.

I know myself fairly well. I’ve always been aware of my bodily discomforts with change of weather/temperature. I know it. I should not doubt of my own reality and poo poo it and feeling guilty. If I don’t believe myself, who will? So I shall just buckle up my own self, Buttercup and deal with it. It is why I have created this very space – to inhale, exhale, to console myelf. Who else would believe when I talk about gremlins and evils, that they exist, that I feel them?

I am heavy with fatigue. My head thick as can be. My neck sore and stiff. My eyes ache in their recesses. But I am working out my kinks and quirks. I am unravelling my knots. I am not at all happy with how receptive my wiring is. It’s not as if I can pull a plug or take out a fuse. If I could, I would. I should work for the CIA. They would pay well. But all I can do to mute their signals is tap here and paint there. Both processes soothe and smooth me. I get some satisfaction in the end. It’s not paying well, though, not monetarily. However, I’m being paid well in that some have told me they find my blog helpful. That is a very big compliment. Imagine how good it made me feel on a bad day to read this post. Thank you, Des! And I am getting recognition for my art work within my Instagram world. I am quite happy with my progress in that direction. I’m still improving, too.

I’ve tapped away that lump in my throat. My shoulders feel looser, my heart lighter. Nothing is wrong. Do not worry, dear readers. It is my way of problem solving. I sound in dire straits and all but I am not. I have had people inquiring and offering me hlep and shelter in the past. I sounded that bad. But I am not there. We writers and artists tend to be melodramatic. We feel things deeply – pain, joy and all the doldrums. That’s how I am. Tomorrow I might still be in this space. Or I might wake up and feel the tightness gone. I will know. But in the meantime, I’m still doing, tapping, painting, giving Sheba shit. We did it all today – the walk, the dishes, ate those chocolate chip blocks. I probably should not make any more. Might not make it through the door by February. I could make some pretzels instead.

January/life is f***ing hard. I didn’t say the whole word though I’ve done that often when I was still working. Nurses are bad for cussing – out of earshot, of course. Somehow it always made me feel better. It’s like a big exhale. Whoosh! There, all that bad stuff is gone. I can make a fresh start now. What I’ve learned now is not to use any other pronoun other than I, me and myself. No you did this to me or it’s their fault. There’s to be no blame. It’s a hard lesson. I take full responsibility for my life. It’s all about me. I will forget now and then, being human. Remind me if you catch me. I would thank you for it – I think.

Since I am such a weather vane, it would be helpful to learn how it can affect the body. It might prepare them and spare me some hardships.  My curiosity now led me to google what happens when the temperature goes from -30 C to +6 C. All that comes up are lots about global warming. Take a look.  It’s here.

I feel that our lives are already never the same again. I know that our existance is greatly threaten. Tomorrow might be just another 10 years and no more. I like to spend this time well. I like to do my best as best as I can. I’m tired now. I like to sign off like Miss Carol Burnett.