I’m going to come out and admit it: I’m having a rough month.  I guess the anticipation of a new year is sometimes better than the new year itself, especially when you’re only 3 weeks into it.

I’ve been feeling bored and blah and sorry for myself, even though one of my new year’s resolutions was explicitly NOT to feel sorry for myself.  In fact, I’ve been having a hard time sticking to my resolutions in general and letting myself feel defeated.  I’ve found that even the most simple-sounding goals can be surprisingly difficult to put into action.


The short days, monotony of the work week, and polar vortex are all obviously contributing, but the main reason I find myself in this funk might make you laugh.  When it comes to my self, I’m a bit of a serious perfectionist, which causes me to become overly dramatic when something goes wrong.  Right now, I’m feeling like a 62-year-old stuck in a 22-year-old’s body.  I’ve been working for months to rehabilitate my knees, only to start feeling more pain as well as clicks, cracks and pops in literally every single other joint.  I try to keep my mind off of it, but it’s hard when I feel/hear it with every move I make.  To cap it off, exactly three of my fingers and three of my toes are swollen, with X-rays and three rounds of blood work so far yielding no explanation.

“What is going on?!?!?! Do I have arthritis? Is it a lost cause? Am I never going to be able to do all the things I love, like run or dance, again?” – My brain.  Give me a break, brain.

I’m waiting for my beloved springtime, with its sunshine, flowers, birdsong and boundless hope, to come and rescue me.

In the meantime, I’m starting a gratitude journal.