Winter Blues.

A little known fact about me: I struggle through January and February (and sometimes even March) with the desire to not get out of bed. My energy wanes and I feel sluggish and barely-there almost constantly. So far this year hasn’t been so bad because the weather in central Illinois has been unusually mild. And by that I mean it’s wavered between the forties and the fifties in temperature for all but a few days this winter.

I’ve still had energy, but I’m not sure I’m making the most of it.

Another confession: other than my daily haiku and the occasional blog post, I’ve barely written anything--even in my private journal. Instead I find other ways to occupy my time: reorganizing my dresser drawers and all three of my desks AND my craft bureau; watching the entire series of Six Feet Under on DVD lent to me by a friend (thanks April!), reading all three books in the Hunger Games series in under seventy-two hours, and of course, sleeping in copious amounts.

Yes, this former-night owl who used to stay up until 2 or 2:30 AM every day even when she had to be up five hours later for work, has taken to going to bed at 10:30 on the dot nearly every night (just not on Saturdays, because I stay up til 1 to watch The Big Bang Theory on Fox at 12:30).

So even though physically I feel all right so far this year, I’m still procrastinating when it comes to writing. It’s not that I don’t have ideas--I have at least six separate novel plots spinning in my mind--it’s that getting myself to sit down and write them out is a lot more difficult than it used to be.

However, I know I’m going to have to just sit down and start typing very soon, or else face a life of either mediocrity or a one way ticket to the nearest mental hospital when I finally start blabbering about fictional characters that no one knows about but me, and the terrible conflicts they are battling out in my head.

And let’s face it: the latter isn’t a very pretty mental image.

Also I’m fairly certain that a strait jacket would do nothing for my pale complexion. Unless they make them in green now anyway.

But I digress.

Sometimes the battle isn’t really the cold dreary weather at all.

Sometimes…it’s just ourselves.