Winter Blahs

January 28, 2013 051

They shred and then toss your motivation in the air like confetti. They creep inside the marrow of your bones, and practice their football-type blocking drills until you’re sore and aching. They glamorize lounging with a lapdog by the hearth, wrapped in a Snuggie.

“No!” I say.

The winter blahs crept through the seemingly impenetrable walls of my house. They slipped in through cracks and crevices. Somewhere vulnerable. Perhaps an exposed section of un-caulked tile. Somehow, they found their way in.

I want my unwelcome houseguest to leave.

When I’m at the barn, an assortment of chores keeps me busy. There’s always something to do. Re-wiring, fixing, clipping, brushing, trimming, cutting, filling, emptying.

The moment I step into my house, however, my energy is gone. Completely, utterly gone.

My energy and adrenaline are up the moment I enter the barn. An alert barn manager is someone who gets things done; who notices everything. They don’t get hurt. My attention is focused everywhere at once–I can’t relax or I might miss something.

Once I step inside my house, my balloon deflates. There’s no danger; no imminent threat or worry.

So I snuggle in with my lapdog to read by the fireplace. We love wrapping up in a warm quilt.

Why a quilt? Because Snuggies are ugly. (But that’s a post for another day.)

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