Outside our small safe place flies Mystery... A snake beneath the forest floor, a whisper: Melusine

I've been writing a lot offline lately and have given in to the way-too-cold weather here in Stevens Point, Wisconsin, which means I have been indoors.  Don't get me wrong, I love winter.  I just can't deal with the sub zero conditions we get, makes it hard to breathe and walk (ice is my nemesis).  Best to just stay tucked in bed or busy behind a desk than to venture out into the big white cold.  This has left me lonely as all hell, of course, and I have more than just a touch of cabin fever.  I cuddle up to my cat and a warm cup of mint chocolate cocoa and we look outside into all that snow and wish to escape.  Needless to say my imagination has increased these days.  Stories and characters are taking shape.  I could write three books in just a few weeks here, if I wanted to. 

I long to get online to write, but then I over sleep, pussy foot around the house, weigh the pros and cons of walking over to the university to get on a computer, put it off for another day and then another day becomes a week and, well, that's it!  I even set little goals for myself.  If I have anything close to a New Year's resolution it's to fill my sketchbook with a drawing a day and then hit the computer lab to scan all those drawings in.  But then the drawings build up, time slips by, and before you know it I check how much drawing I've done and realize that by the time I do get on a scanner I'll be there for several hours, if not an entire day, scanning in all my new work.  So by the time I have an hour free to write a blog, well, my eyes are too tired to look at a screen for another hour.

Such is life.

That's not to say my life is entirely made up of lazy days spent procrastinating at home.  I've had some family stress, financial stress, basically life stress all around, so much I don't feel like clogging up my peaceful little blog space with a bunch of complaints.  It's just as soon as I get here I want to only write about what interests and inspires me.  I haven't had the urge to rant. 

One lovely thing: poetry is singing out of me again.  So excuse me while I get back to my little handwritten journal.  At some point soon I will let loose a cascade of words and images.  In fact I feel guilty, sad even, when I'm not here writing my blog.  I look back on my old entries and notice I've matured and reached a new level of emotional balance -- could be a sign my medication is working or I'm just finally settling into a routine.  One thing I'm most pleased with is that I haven't obsessed about any men lately.

And just as I write that, I realize the month.  I just decorated a store window with all the Valentine pinks and reds.  The deadly reminder that I am still single at 38.  I'm really at the point now in my life where I think marriage is not going to happen for me anytime soon.  I look through photographs of my friends' families and feel the pangs of them missing in my life.  If I can't have a boyfriend or husband, give me my friends!

I have to do something about that.  Gotta get back with my people.  And soon.