So here we are, the second week of January. Blah brown landscape. No snow. Short days (but not nearly short enough when you're stuck at work). Nothing much exciting on the horizon to look forward to. I have a million things I could be doing with any free time I have -- among them, organizing the basement for a future renovation project, finishing several knitting projects, writing (something besides this blog yammering), reading (because when I can't make the words dance on the page, I'd like to experience someone else's attempt), making jewelry from the stash of baubles I collected last year. But nothing seems interesting enough to snag my attention and snuggle it close for more than a few minutes.
Yep. Like I said, it's January.
My mind's preoccupied with a mishmash of negative thoughts and frustrating inaction. I'm wrapped up in a frenzy of wishing. Wishing that I had more control over situations clearly beyond mine. Wishing some people didn't disappoint me so much. Wishing life didn't often feel like such a giant, flaming ball of hassle.
Wishing I could fall asleep tonight and wake up in April.