We are currently in an extended stretch of gloomy weather here which we normally don’t experience until January, and I am having a hard time dealing with it.
“The whole summer was like this too,” I complained to my husband. “It’s like nature wants me to be depressed.”
“I don’t think so,” he said. “I think nature wants things to be moist; it’s the moisture delivery system that’s depressing you.”
(This does not make me feel any more kindly toward nature. It still feels personal.)
And the weather is not the only thing trying to break me. I’ve spent the past two months in such an endless cycle of chronic migraines and fibromyalgia pain that I have officially become the “ScrInch” who dreads Christmas.
The world has much to answer for these days.