Thu, 03 Jan 2013 19:15:24 -0800
It's as if the new year shouldn't have started yet -- I'm puttering at
work, as yet unmotivated and so churning out small-fry changelists;
the shuttles are on a reduced schedule; half the team is still out of
the office; lunch at Crittenden, the new campus, remains lackluster
and un-veggie-friendly. I'm still engaging like it's still vacation,
my attention scattered, posting on Facebook and waiting for the minute
glow produced by each "like." Yesterday I restocked on flour, sugar,
and eggs, having blown through my earlier supply in the New Year's Eve
creation of peppermint bark shortbread and very spiked eggnog. I
tried to roast acorn squash and failed (I should learn my lesson:
Kabocha, butternut, delicata or nothing). Folded my laundry.
The dip in mental engagement makes sense, I suppose -- my 2012
projects are all either done or punted to 2013. Things that are over:
Visiting family over Christmas in the Midwest; my relationship; the
Nori-and-Emily spectacular of New Year's Eve, with sequins and
cocktails and hairdos and glamor shots in front of the damask
wallpaper and chandelier in the showpiece closet, and then coffee and
slow-moving brunch and mopping the floors the next day. So many
horizons, all now behind.
Not that I'm upset about any of this. (Really, anymore.) Rather that
my usual vigor lacks a focal point just now, and without more projects
than I can reasonably handle at any given time and people with whom to
do them, boredom quickly creeps in around the edges. I was bored by
the unit tests I wrote today (but pleased by their greenness). Bored
by my laundry. Bored with the half-bottle of wine waiting for me on
my counter; bored with the prospect of another evening roasting
vegetables (fennel tonight) and telling myself to go to bed early. I
went to the gym to unspool some of this directionless energy, which
will probably keep me un-bored until this shuttle arrives back home.
And it's not as if I don't have projects -- a couple of large-scope
ones at work; a kitchen remodel on which to move forward; the Symphony
Chorus will begin making me pleasantly insane with mid-century French
modernism soon enough; there's even a suggestion (well-timed) of
someone new to be excited about. Plenty to begin, to resume, to run
with, just as soon as I feel like running.
Maybe I'm just low on serotonin. I prescribe myself a weekend, yoga,
friends' cocktail parties, and as many projects as I can fit into two
sunny January days. Then I'll start 2013 for real on Monday.