I had second thoughts about writing this post after reading Libby's eloquent explanation of her current state of funkiness. But I'm in a funk too, as are the other two members of this household, Jan the wife and Sam the cat. By the way, Jan is free to describe me as "Rob the husband" if she wants, but since she doesn't have a blog, she'll just have to refer to me in that term in conversation with her co-teachers and students.
I have identified the cause of my funkticity, and it is called the deep freezing bowels of Winter.
Libby seems to be taking a rational approach to her funk by couch sitting, wine drinking, television watching and thinking funkily. I'm attempting to deal with my own funk by excess coffee drinking ... period. I think I need to throw something else into the mix though. Television watching is out, because Jan insists on watching "Bones" from the minute she gets home until bed time. I never thought one program could be shown so many times on so many different networks, but apparently, it can.
I've tried "thinking Spring", but I can't project my mind that far ahead in time. I do have one reminder of warmer weather as I look out my window here in the den ... a fly that has been stuck to the screen since last September, but I don't really want to start equating Spring with flies.
There's a boat show in Chicago right now, and nothing says warm weather like boating. But nothing says "poorhouse" more accurately than boating too, and besides, all of the water around here is frozen.
Sam the cat is dealing with her funk by sleeping 23 hours and 57 minutes per day, but this probably wouldn't be an option for me, particularly at work.
The stark cruel truth is that my funk will only be lifted by the passage of time. So, I'll just plod through my days and keep my sphincter tight against the icy winds until the swallows return to Capistrano and the flies return to Northeastern Illinois.