Friday, February 3, 2012

A Meditation on the Sisyphean Nature of February - or you know, Groundhog Day and shopping.

The Sisyphean nature of life has just been too much for me lately - as it often is this time of year. Everything I do feels like the same damn thing over and over again.

I don't know if it's the lack of warmth or the lack of light (although I sure suspect the latter, since I have been reminded time and time again I have nothing to complain about given the mild nature of this winter in the Northeast.  Yet I persist.) but by the time Imbolc rolls around I am a full on mess.  Every new year, sometime in January, I develop a type of seasonal disorder.  I begin to notice how pointless it all seems, and how endless - fill the dishwasher, empty the dishwasher, fill the dishwasher, empty the dishwasher....same with the parade of dirty then clean laundry to the basement and back.   I seem to always be wearing the same clothes, making the same dinners,  checking the same homework, from the same (dark) time I get up every day to the same (dark) time I go to sleep every night, things are stuck in an autonomous loop, over which I have no control.

Even the nature of the disorder feeds into my sense of repetition.  Every year, it begins with a mild sense of unease, which moves to ennui, then heads on into sheer dissatisfaction, a lack of pleasure in the things around me, and a strong feeling that if only I could get myself to a Tiki Bar with a full view of palm trees and parrot fish all would be right in my world again.  I don't care that we've had more days in the 40s and 50s this winter than we have in the 20s and 30s - I still hate it. And I'm still going to complain.  I feel trapped in the house, trapped in the coats, hats and gloves.  Trapped in putting it all on every time I go out and taking it all off every time I come in.  I need sultry air, a warm breeze, a fruity drink in one hand and a trashy novel in the other.  (Which is not happening anytime soon.)

So today was not the day for my son to leave his clean laundry on the floor instead of putting it away - for the third time in two weeks.  Not the day for the dog to sleep on said (formerly) clean laundry - for the third time in two weeks.  Most definitely not the day for that son to then call from school, immediately after I'd dropped him off, to ask me to come back to school with his Giants helmet since he needed it for Chemistry.  (ok that was a new one) Yes, even after he explained to me that I didn't need to wash his clothes again because he didn't mind at all if they were doggy smelling.  And so not the day for having the finding and bringing of his helmet to school make me miss yoga.  Yet that was the day it was.

So I did the only thing that made sense to me.  I got back from school the second time, changed out of my yoga clothes, pointed my car toward the sun, turned the radio up way too loud and drove directly to the J. Crew Outlet where I bought half a new summer wardrobe.  A bright orange dress, a cute sweater, two t-shirts and a belt, all for under $130.00.  And you know what? I feel better.  Sometimes retail therapy is my only answer.