Today, I'm a Hopeful Genius

Spring is springing!

Well, it's not exactly springing, but it was finally above 0°C (32°F) yesterday, which meant that I could take my gloves off to take photos without risking my digits.



The dirtier snow is melting into mucky and oily clumps and puddles, showcasing the grit and pollution of urban melt.

As much as this time of year is swampy and unattractive in Regina, though, and as much as it brings on my snow mould allergies like nobody's business, it still makes the small fist of my heart shake off some of its melancholy.



For those of us who suffer from seasonal depression, mud is hope's correlate in early spring.

Mud also means dragging out my belove red rubber boots!



These boots may be beloved, but I've always had a painful problem when I wear them. My socks tend to work themselves down my leg, and then the top of the boot rubs the back of my calf raw, because these boots are shaped to fit close to the leg. I had a major stroke of brilliance, though, and the problem has been solved.

To keep your close-fitting rubber boot from rubbing your calf raw, wear a pair of knee-high socks and fold the sock over the top of the boot. The boot holds up your sock, and your sock prevents your leg from being rubbed raw.



Today, I'm a hopeful genius.

Spring And I Are Turning A Corner

I've been feeling panicked for a few days. This is what happens to me in spring. I loathe the last couple of months of winter, and then I get churned through the soul shredder months of April and May.

Seasonal depression coupled with anxiety is the bomb diggety.



I was getting kind of sick of sitting around the house feeling simultaneously antsy and depressed and explosive and like I could fall asleep at any moment, so I took a walk to a little local grocery.



This turn in weather from slushy and cold to warm and dusty is just the sign that shows me my turn is coming.

I think the hardest thing about seasonal depression is its regularity. Spring is going to be hard. I can work at it to make it less hard, but it's still going to be hard. And once the hard part's over and I move into mid-May with a measure of relief, I know that October's still coming. It's an illness you can set your watch by, ticking away with dread or relief depending on the time.

But the point is not that time keeps happening. It is that it's getting better right now. We're on our way.



A complete jerk harrassed me with aggressive yelling on the way to the store. He just bellowed noise. He didn't even bother with words. An electric burn ran up my spine and pooled around my ears, but I threw him the finger and hunched into my phone like I was on an important call. It's better if they think that you're bored by their behaviour.

The walk helped, though. Jerks abound everywhere. You have to let them slide. They're just injured children.

The thing is that I saw the sun. Gravel crunched under my shoes. Where snow crusted over in dirty heaps last week, perennials were now shooting through in flower beds. A bird tipped its wing and brushed my temple as it swooped up to a nearby roof.

That's some magic right there when a wild bird touches you just as the evening sun is glinting off windows and metal poles.



I arrived home with bags of food, and the cats gave it all their customary once-over. It was deemed good. They are the arbiters of good taste around these parts.



The Palinode's response to my gift of groceries was to threaten me with the polenta loaf. What a sweetheart.

Today? It turned out pretty good, and all it took was a walk and a bird and a potential polenta incident.

A good walk can put a body and a brain back together.

Nothing A Little Late Spring Won't Cure

One of my favourite things to do with the Palinode is to take pictures of him while we take in a new-to-us restaurant. It gives me an excuse to stare at him a lot and bug him by hovering around his face with my iPhone like an overzealous paparazza.



And he still loves me even though I post pictures of him looking ever so worried and afraid of his menu.

I hope.



Did you know that it's the end of March, and it's snowing and windy and grey out? This extended greyness seems to be sucking the writing creativity out of me.

Also? The surrendering of the final shred of my online anonymity has kind of left me feeling uprooted.



The keywords for this month have been Depressed and Uprooted. Nice. I'm a laugh riot.

Actually, I am a laugh riot much of the time. I do soft shoes with jiggly elbows and make up stupid t-shirt slogans for my three cats' upcoming fashion shoot (this is a real thing, by the by) and make up offensive sausage jokes for our dining pleasure.



When I sit down to write lately, though, only the most serious stuff comes to mind.

Just call me Sad Sack Schmutzie.



Even my photography feels uninspired. Today, I took pictures of soap. Yesterday, when I was too lethargic to leave the bedroom, I shot photos of the cats from under the door while I lay about out on the floor.



Seasonally affected depression is the pits.

Please don't leave me comments about full spectrum lights or eating zucchini or the merits of learning to put my feet behind my head. I will silently jamb a fork in your eye from my side of the internet.



Believe me, I know it gets better. This is my thirty-eighth go-around with this winter crap, and I've got the pattern pretty much memorized.

I am far better at it than I used to be, though. I used to have to hide my kitchen knives and subsist on finger foods and stuff that didn't need cutting until my brain fell out of the hell of early spring's rhythm. I don't have to do that anymore.

Now I just get kind of morose and moon around the apartment groaning about the dearth of housekeeping staff around here and watching my chub get chubbier.

I like cheese nachos.



Which brings me neatly back to the fantastic Indian food the Palinode and I have been eating from Da India Curry House. They don't have cheese nachos, but they do have divine Indian food, which trumps everything, including my waistline.

Late spring will save me, though. It always does.

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PS.  You can buy cheap-as-borscht advertising in my sidebar for 25% off on your first placement up to 30 days. This helps me grow my waistline and get to BlogHer this summer.