Stopping. Just for a beat

This week, I was compared to the Energizer Bunny. And, while I find the little dude a little annoying with his constant percussion, I do understand the parallel with my social schedule. Since Saturday, I've attended a board game party, hit up a birthday party for someone I didn't know, went for brunch, played dodgeball, went out for dinner, went on a coffee date, went out for pints with a friend, did two boot camp sessions, met another friend for a run, went skating, went for a walk with a friend, sang karaoke, hosted a few friends for drinks, oh, and worked. Full time. Plus a couple freelance pieces.

So, it wouldn't surprise anyone to hear that I was thinking about taking a break. Hiding out for an afternoon, or even a day.

But it bothers me.

Not because I'm tired, though I certainly could use some more sleep. Not because it's dull - I've got plenty of stuff to keep me occupied. Not because I feel like I'm missing out on fun elsewhere - though I very well could be. It's because I have the urge to hermit. And that feeling just kills me.

January and February have always been tough months for me. I know that the beginning of the year is supposed to be about fresh starts, but it always feels dreary and routine. And it's the time of year when the darkness can find a crack in my armour and seep in, robbing me of my interest, my energy, my get up and go. The creeping that makes me think, "Oh, the dishes can be tackled tomorrow," or "I don't really need to pop out to the shop." The kind of feelings that make getting up and getting dressed feel like a real accomplishment, instead of a quick 15 minute task to tackle so I can race out the door and find my next adventure.

Today, I accomplished the bare minimum. I tidied my apartment somewhat from last night's get-together. I ran the dishwasher. I had a bath, and filed a piece that was on deadline. I sent out a few interview queries. And it all felt like so much work. But now, as I contemplate getting ready for work, I'm forcing myself to shake it off. I don't want to be dragging myself through the day, I want to be embracing it.

I don't want the darkness to win, sending me back to my still unmade bed, hair still wet, unable to concentrate even on a book or a TV show. So, I'm going to make some dinner. Do my makeup. And push myself to get through this one, knowing, at least on some level, that tomorrow will be better and I'll feel like I'm living in technicolour again, instead of gray scale.

Maybe that's why I pack my schedule so full. Why I'm always up for everything. Because, even if the evening is a dud, I can appreciate just having the energy and the interest to try.