Seasonal Affective Disorder--it's real, you know. I think anyone who lives in Grove City, Pennsylvania can testify to that fact right now. I'm not sure why it's snowing in the middle of April, but I don't like it one bit. As Dr. Graham said to me last Wednesday--"Eliot was right, 'April is the cruelest month.'" Never has a poet spoken truer words.
Today Suzanne and I looked out the window to see a poor fellow walking to the cafeteria wrapped in a blanket. I barely resisted the urge to do the same.
I admit to procrastinating on my pile of work tonight and checking out James Joyce's Dubliners from the library. I curled up and read the first story, and it was much like the weather. Paralysis--a key image in the story. I think the weather makes me feel much the same way, gray and weak.
There is one perk I can think of to the cold. Hot tea--one of my truest loves. Were the sun out, I may not feel like it as much. So the best I can do is drink up and make sure to use cheery floral mugs.