Summer mania vs. summer sadness

Today’s blog:  scattered with a chance of storms.  Wait, that’s the weather outside.  muah ah ah.
Well, the scattered I can deliver.

Welcome to my little life.  My little corner of my little room of my little life that is. 

Wow, sounds like I live in a 10×10 studio.  Or that I’m hunkered down at a desk in that little studio.  Then again, if I lived in a tiny studio, that would probably mean I live in a city, alone, and that’s far from the truth. I’m blessed to be in love, living in a spacious 1 bedroom apartment overlooking a serene river.  Sometimes I forget all of the above when I dream of having more.  Then I remember again all I need are my girl, my shelter, my laptop, some food and my kitties.  It’s really that simple.

Gratitude. 

When will I live this, rather then have fleckers of moments of it, life is beautiful.

But I digress from the thoughts that made we want to blog to you today.

Summer mania vs. summer sadness

Usually summer for me means madness.  That is, I’m usually up, manic, a tad over the line if you know what I mean.  I get on a roll in the spring and get too much sunshine at the beach.  Then poof:  I’m a wee bit too happy.  Well that was last summer at least.  But that’s my pattern.  Seasonal conditions (late fall and winter) no sun, dark and gloomy and very depressing.  It reminds me of the shrink who diagnosed me (though I despised her at the time), did suggest to my parents that I live in a warm climate.

Most summers simply amazing.  The sun and my mood and my life feel 100% comfortable.  No matter what is going on. Happy. Sunshine. Beach. Peace.

But if there’s too much, it’s madness.  I never knew too much sun could do that.  Until last summer.  And if you add a tad too much pressure, not good.  Not good.  Case in point last year.

This year I’m way under as we head in to July.

I’ve had a few deadlines in May and June.  Usually I go out hunting, knocking on doors to write articles for May, mental health month.  I wasn’t terribly motivated early this year which didn’t worry me, I was busy with my new job.  Focused on that and on my little life.  Moving along, moving along.

Then a few knocks came, the article for BP Magazine and an offer to write for a book (title undisclosed until I’m allowed.  But for me, both are a big deal.  Last year, two years ago and certainly five years ago when I began writing, no one was knocking.  All I had was a schlew of emails everywhere trying to get in places.  Not many of which materialized.  I was really focused on the book, my little baby, the only being I’ve ever given birth to.  And it is as close as I’ll ever get,  cutting the cord figuratively of course.

Anyways, I don’t know what the next project is.  But I’ll keep ya posted.  I promise.

peace.
wendy