After having a cavity filled yesterday morning, I stopped by Barnes & Noble to just look around. I ran into a former student who works there, and we stopped to chat. Except I had very, very, very little to talk about. My life is nothing, basically. There is nothing happening.
My worst bouts of depression manifest themselves in the unquenchable thirst for sleep. Even though the logical, educated part of my brain knows that what I'm feeling is depression, and it would be possible to fight through, the despair is so overwhelming and deep that I can't move. Sitting and staring is as far as I get, and the hopelessness consumes me. If I can't get away from it, I'm certain that this time, it will swallow me whole. So I sleep.
Last Friday, I had a few errands and appointments I had to take care of. It was going to be the first day out of the house since the ice storm. Though there were still substantial amounts of ice and snow in yards, streets were traversable. I chose this sweater to wear:
My mother made it. The colors are purple, lime and white. Which led me into her jewelry box to stare at this ring:
Daddy made it for her because, from top to bottom, it holds Briton's, mine and Hannah's birthstones: opal, amethyst, pearl. A lovely idea for a Grandma, but a perplexing gift. Daddy was intensely superstitious, and one of the most serious jewel superstitions is that no one should wear opals unless they are their birthstone. Otherwise, they bring bad luck. Why he had the ring made for her, whose birthstone was aquamarine. . . It just had to be for the symbolism. I don't know if she ever wore it.
Friday morning, I decided to. The ring matched the sweater perfectly, and it was Valentine's Day. Briton and Hannah are my only two Valentines. And I hadn't worn an amethyst on my birthday.
That day, I fell on our icy sidewalk. I am still in stiff soreness, and the bruises (from head to thighs) are beginning to come in in all tints and tones of purple and green and milky yellow. Opalescent, one might say.
That day, as I was lying in a hot epsom salt bath to try to get ahead of the aches, the toilet made a very peculiar gulping, burping sound, and began to overflow. I am no speedster out of the tub anyway, so you can imagine how glacial were my tries to get out and to the toilet before the floor was flooded. I was late. And by the time I got everything mopped up, the bath was cold. And I was out of epsom salts.
The sun came out yesterday and began stripping a lot of the ice from the trees and ground. Almost like the whole storm didn't happen. It's funny how that goes. . .
(Those are the lights of Athens Proper in the distance there.) The steps in the center photo? I shoveled them off yesterday and there was a solid 4" of ice on each one. The ice also extends onto the sidewalk and most of the driveway, as those parts of the house aren't ever in the sun. In fact, when I took the dogs out this morning, Finn headed for the mailbox, and when I hit the sidewalk, well. . . I hit the sidewalk. Glasses went flying, left shoulder and the back of my head hit simultaneously. It seems I clenched my teeth on the way down, too, as my left jaw is aching. Frankly, I'm too old for that.
Lots of people have so much more snow and bad weather than us --- hopefully, they're all safe and warm and have lots to keep them entertained.
And for what it's worth, I still think snow is beautiful.