The Long Winter

Well, that was a bit uncomfortable.

I am sitting in my kitchen for the second evening in a row, with cookies in the oven. I spent most of last weekend baking. Posting that article is not a coincidence.

Fortunately, my feelings and experience diverged from the writer’s in that story fairly early on. I’ve never been out of control, and my issues have always, blessedly, been manageable with exercise and plenty of sleep, and, occasionally, a distraction like baking a lot or making piles of sockmonkeys or reading everything I can get my hands on. And I genuinely enjoy grocery shopping, sans ulterior motives.

Recently I’ve been a bit better. I sang in the car the whole way up and the whole way back from my parents’ last weekend. I’m nearly done Christmas shopping. I will not be looking at my Visa statement any time soon… That said, come the tail end of March, I fully expect to find myself muttering while walking to my car at the end of another cold, damp, grey work day that Mother Nature is really welcome to STOP THAT SHIT ANY TIME.

I still consider myself lucky. I don’t ever plan to bake everything in a magazine. I don’t need to. Mine is the only unit on this floor, so no risk of neighbours doing unfortunate things to themselves. Oh, and as an interesting side note, my brother has been a near-compulsive furniture re-arranger his entire life.

In addition to being a tasty distraction, I do genuinely like baking things for people, even taking them to work. (Or shipping them off to the wilds of northern Ontario to feed Sherry’s family’s Yuletide festivities…) Though, admittedly, the work thing? That is partially because a lot of people suck at cooking/baking and don’t know it, and it can be fun to show off, just a little. šŸ™‚

Article via here. And I hope she finds a way to feel better, too.

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