Not to anyone who knows me at least. Or to me. I always start out strong and then ...poot. But there you go. 'Tis a hellish road and a well-paved one. I am so damned blue over politics, the weather, my pathetic shell of a carcass that I can hardly even stand to face it in black and white. I guess I could change the palette to something more winsome! Pink! Orange! I am going with my usual attitude of gratitude and doing my very best to do the upstream swim as best I can but it feels like progress is mind-bogglingly slow and the slope is terrible steep. The less I accomplish, the worse I feel and the worse I feel the less I accomplish. So it's a self-perpetuating cycle but pain is a wearing, draining, debilitating thing and it takes on a life of its own. Maybe I should name it, make a voodoo doll and make with the pincushion thing. It couldn't possibly hurt. Me.
I have been going around saying that we will be having an early Spring. I have no scientific or empirical evidence for this whatsoever and it's just that I feel like if I say it enough it will happen. And it will help. Being out with Lord Puppington several times a day has gotten me out, at least, but it will be much better when it means getting out with the crocuses instead of among the frozen pee drifts. Robert Frost would never say pee drifts, would he? Stopping By Pee Drifts on a Snowy Evening. I don't think I've missed my calling.
That's it for now. I've typed too much on ridiculous FB today about the excrement with a pulse that is Andre Bauer and Canadians and eco-coops. Tomorrow I should do it here instead of there. I can be more acid here anyway, since I'm pretty darned sure I'm typing for myself for the greatest part. Which is fine. Keep me out of trouble for the day at least.
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