Rainy Morning Musings

We've had days upon days of relentless grey weather here lately. Combined with daylight savings and early darkness, the feeling of enforced hibernation is a little wearing. I like the cosiness and quiet winter brings. It's draggin' my ass out in it that poses issues some days.

I was thinking this morning about a documentary I saw a while back. I can't remember the artist it was about, but he was from Quebec and he is famous for his traditionalist images, particularly of winter. I remember the narrator saying that winter, in the late 1800's, was essentially a time of rest for people because there were no crops to tend and harvest and no food stores to build up. I remember that factoid striking me because I so often think of winter as a time of hardship when I apply the context of the past. I imagine white knuckled pioneers trying to make that last jar of jam last as long as possible. But it's entirely reasonable that many times, winter was a time to relish.

What's my point? I don't know.

It's 6:05 a.m. and the rain is lashing outside. I can't sleep anymore. My head is swimming with thoughts such as:

I don't want to audition Monday. I feel too fat.

That I don't understand how I can have a chest with gunk in it but no asthma. Not that I'd like asthma, I'm just sayin'.

That generally, I'm feeling so much better since I started supplementing with iron and vitamin D and I'm beginning to wonder if so many years of fatigue and disappointment come down to some simple deficiencies I could have fixed long ago.

That it's essentially even useless to think that because you can't change the past.

That I'm so happy my orphan cat who was abandoned by the yobbos went to his new home a week ago and is doing swimmingly by all accounts.

That I wish we had a guide book for life. I wish you could get some kind of kit that basically outlines why you're here, what you need to learn and what your purpose is.

That sometimes, I just feel stupid and narcissistic writing here.