And Then The Wheels Fell Off...

There must be something about Week 3 in a particular year. There was the so-called "blue monday" earlier this week, which is the first time I've heard of the media covering it, and certainly the first time I've heard it called by that name. But it's a concept I'm sadly all too familiar with. We're pretty much in mid-winter now, the snow has all gone but the short days remain, and even though they're getting longer it's a very slow process. It's cold, I'm tired all the time and want to hibernate. As usual in Week 3, I'm starting to think about the year so far and wondering if I could have done more with the two weeks we've already had, however much I've actually done with them. Irrational I know, but it happens. And the whole thing just feels like it's becoming a grind.

My blog title comes from a phrase I used to shout out whenever I played a poker tournament and things started to go wrong after a good start. And with a mindset like what I have now, it's probably no wonder I booked a losing session at poker for the first time since my return to the tables - after winning $2.50 up until yesterday, I've given about half of that back in one hit, and there's no worse feeling than knowing your hand is beat yet still putting your chips in because you feel you've got to - and then seeing your initial judgement was right and wondering why the hell you did what you did. My Ace/King happened to run into pocket Kings - bad luck, but then I had extremely good luck last week so maybe this is just evening itself out as luck eventually does. However, I did feel a little intimidated by a couple of players at the table who clearly were better than me, and of course there's the "week 3" feeling in my head - so probably no wonder I booked a loss.

Right now I'm just sitting staring into space listening to the local lowlife scum shouting at each other and indulging in a little low-level vandalism. There's tons of stuff I want to get done but I just can't motivate myself to do it. GroupieGirl's also finding life a little tough at the moment and really I should invite her over - I think she's missing me - but I just can't seem to be bothered doing that either. Or maybe I'm scared that things will start going wrong again there too. Like it did last winter, yeah?

I'm coming home from work and sleeping until 20.00 - and by then, it's a little late to invite her over - staring into a screen until 24.00 or 01.00 before dragging my butt to bed and sleeping for a few hours until my alarm call at 05.00. I then try to get myself awake with coffee and go to work, usually in a very emotionally fragile state (and thank Zog for the earplugs, I can assure you). After a hard day at work I come home and usually feel like going straight to bed again. Put that on repeat. Perhaps it doesn't help that this week I'm working five days straight with no break in the middle like there usually is.

The only thing going well at the moment is the rather vivid dreams I'm having, and while they fade from the memory after a few hours they're good while they're happening. Last night I had a really nice one featuring someone I know from social media - or at least parallel universe versions of us. As I made breakfast this morning I was feeling quite fragile and not really in a mood to face the world at all, but still with a nice feeling from the dream, and with this song in my head which was playing in it. Probably one of the most upbeat songs about death in musical history, and certainly hugely popular at the time (biggest seller in the UK of 1979, as I said when I blipped it on waking)

It does get better. I've been through this cycle every winter for two decades now. But it's not much fun while it's happening. The alien years weren't supposed to be like this.

art garfunkel

bright eyes

watership down 1978