e

For me. I don't feel any particular resentment towards the season; in fact, I spend a fair amount of it not feeling much of anything at all. Emotions require energy, is the thing, and I'm in very short supply of that. In a way it's freeing: at other times of year, when I think of something I might do, it exists as an actual possibility, with all the potential for anxiety and guilt that that entails, but now I just think, ahahahahaha -- no, and tell myself to hold that thought until I am no longer living in a light-starved hell.

Yesterday I ate a chocolate bar, which is notable because doing so required me to first open the wrapper, something which in the preceding days I had not found the wherewithal to do.

I promise you that this is very funny when you are the person living it.

I do actually have some energy. My shoulders ache from snow shoveling, which is good, because I got that ache being very careful about my technique so as to avoid wrenching my back. I spent a couple of hours rolling around in a wonderful horrible new plotbunny today -- I'm not going to write it, but it's good to know that at least my ideas haven't dried up. I even, unrelatedly, managed to make someone laugh.

I keep thinking of posts I might make -- about recent events on Person of Interest; about the fact that Almost Human is eating my brain; and then there's one I really do want to write someday, even if it's in a very disorganized fashion, about some of the zillion and one largely disparate factors that seem to contribute to whether a given story is judged "good" -- but I guess I'm making this one instead.

(Edited to capitalize the last word of Person of Interest. Oh touchscreen keyboard, don't you know it's unkind to kick a person when they're down?)