Adulthood Non-fiction Observations Seasonal

How’s your January?

Bleak, dismal, grey, tiring, sad, long, monotonous, cold, dark. These are a few words that people use to describe the month of January. How is yours going?

The period after Christmas is always strange. The new year brings a lot of excitement and anticipation initially, but a week in and everyone is scared of the change, worn out by the darkness and fed up with the cold.

I am a firm believer of the condition S.A.D which stands for seasonal affective disorder that many people suffer during the darker winter months.

I’m not afraid to admit that some days during this difficult month I have cried for no reason. I have panicked about the future unnecessarily. I have felt tired and exhausted wondering where I am going wrong in life and then I look outside and realise that it is pitch black and only 3pm.

I wake up in darkness, walk to work in darkness and leave work in darkness. My toes and fingers have threatened to fall off due to being freezing cold. I am running out of warm jumpers because they are all in the wash. My motivation is lacking most days. I feel overwhelmed with my year’s to-do list!

The memes fill social media describing the ninety fifth day of January. The weather reporters bring news of more rain, grey skies and the big freeze. Outside looks bare and spring seems miles away.

However, while running on an extremely bright and beautiful morning this week I discovered some perks to this godawful first month of the year and decided that there are ways to appreciate January as much as any other month:

  • the hope of spring is around the corner
  • there is still beautiful sunshine
  • glistening frost
  • wood burners
  • appreciation of a thick coat
  • there are buds on the trees
  • the first signs of daffodils start to appear
  • dogs look really cute in coats

So there we have it. January. A depressing yet hopeful, beautiful month.

fiction Observations Writing

A house, who’s lived in it?

The sixties housewife who spent her days swamped in chores,
Her husband who was always ranting each time he came through the doors.
Their three little children, so well behaved,
Then the old man’s father before he went to the grave.

The eighties rock chick, dressed in fluorescent colours,
Her many boyfriends and the rest were just lovers.
A friendly Labrador who obeyed her every request,
She loved this dog and he loved her, for they are the very best.

Then the nineties came and brought in a new clan,
Just a couple and their baby who sat in his pram.
The mother was lucky and didn’t have to work,
While the garden expanded and the baby played in the dirt.

The family moved when the millennium struck,
Father Dixon came into a bit of luck.
Next came a gambler, his name was Phil,
He didn’t last long, bill after bill.

2003 brought another family but the children soon fled,
Margaret and James swear that they will still live here when they are dead.
I always think each time I look at the brick,
Here’s a house, somebody’s home, but who’s lived in it?

Adulthood Observations Writing

The different versions of you

You are an individual, of course you are, just like nobody else. You could be happy one day and another day sad but you’ll still do it differently to everyone. As important as it is to be you and the best version of it that you can be, I still think we all have numerous very different versions of what this is.

There’s the work one. The I must be polite to everyone one. The musn’t swear no matter how better it will make me feel one. The must work hard even though I am so tired one.

There’s the play one. The swear as much as you like one. The drink as much as you can one. The no regrets until morning one.

There’s the meeting old friends one. The can’t stop talking and who needs to take breath anyway one. The so much to catch up on so the conversation is meaningful one.

There’s the friend you see every day one. The still can’t allow for breath but talking about nothing one. The let’s have another glass and talk more rubbish one.

There’s the happiness around dogs one. The forgiving for everything one. The being delighted no matter how bad they are being one – because who can be sad around dogs?

There’s the holiday one. The off duty one. The nothing matters how long it takes one. The I don’t care about organisation I have all the time in the world one. The no cares at all one.

There’s the mundane day one. The I have an hour to do everything so I’m going to stress about it all one. The getting home and listing all the things that I’ve stressed about and laughing it off in the car one.

There’s the crisis one. The everything is such a HUGE deal one. The how can I possibly cope one. The screaming at the top of my lungs while driving down country roads one.

There’s the reasoning one. The logical one. The irritatingly calm one. Jumping in when chaos has struck one.

For me, personally, there’s the questioning one. The querying all that I’m doing and all I’ve ever done one. Wondering if I’ll ever get married, find success, where I’ll end up one. The somewhat dramatic one.

Then there’s the writer in me. The fighter in me. The never giving upper in me. The I am happy, the stop worrying about the future, the keep going, pour another gin.

They may appear to be very different people, but I feel that these are all versions of one you.