"Why, what's the matter,
that you have such a February face,
so full of frost, of storm and cloudiness?"
-William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing
I've been a bit absent lately, allowing the stresses and disappointments of life to weigh heavily on me. I know better, but sometimes the strength to care for myself eludes me in the face of an escapist book and a warm bed. I wallow and feel all the worse for it.
As much as they'd wanted to, my parents are no longer coming to live with us. For now, their path continues to keep them in Washington State, and while in practical terms this means that my life hasn't really been affected, I have a hard time remaining practical regarding it all. The almost-nearness; the glancing promise of living-in-one-another's-pockets and the what-could-have-beens have made our current distance feel all the more vast. I dwell too much on the loss.
That, in addition to the looming cloud-of-death that is our financial situation, has managed to cast a pall over my mood. I need to shake it off. Be happy. Or at the very least, adopt Lord Grantham's attitude:
"I haven't the right to be unhappy, and that's almost the same thing."
Now, isn't that a cheerful sentiment to start off your Monday?