Winter Truly Sucks

I am sick of winter, the cold, the snow, and the gray skies. I know, why do I continue to live in such a cold climate? I haven't a clue, really. My work is such that I can work from anywhere in the world, and my family is all over the place. My Rosie has no real ties to anyone here, with the exception of 2 of our boys and their families. A recent birth of a granddaughter would keep Rosie here.

But for myself, I find that each year, it gets to be much worse than the last. I am not so steady on my feet any longer, with a head full of meds and a myriad of other issues, and I get pretty anxious when I go out, scared of a fall on the ice and a broken hip. The data I read a year or two ago about the survival rate of an old coot from a broken hip gnaws at my fucking brain, and it is all I think about when I go outside. So I tend to become even more reclusive than ever. I have weeks where I don't go outside at all - never leave the apartment, let alone get dressed. I enjoy the fact that I can work in my 'jammies, but shit! what quality of life do I have? Nada...

I always get very depressed during the winter months, and it helps little that Rosie rants about the lack of business, and I am unsure as to where my direction is going myself. Things at IB are not looking good. The idiot that is handling content right now might as well be on another planet. I submit my articles like a good little boy, and he will reply with a "thanks" that I am sure is insincere, and then I do not hear from him - EVER!! What a dork. So I have that hanging over my head, and it doesn't make for a happy situation in the Coon household....

I've been helping Sara with some homework, and it is a struggle being nice to her. I hate to offend her, but this girl is clueless. I am making some headway with her, but my god! I am old!! There isn't enough days left in my life to make even a good writer out of her. It is sad - she has a lyrical, lilting voice with a bit of a Southern drawl, and her voice is pure music to hear. When she puts it on paper, though, it truly sucks. I have told her over and over to write like she talks, and I admit she is a bit better, but shit! The old saw about making a silk purse out of a sows ear comes to mind, ya know? I am having a bit of a problem expecting perfection out of her as I do of myself, and that is intolerant of me.

I suppose I shall survive the winter. I tend to drink more when it is cold and so damn dark and gloomy, and I am struggling with the stupid water a bit more than I like. But I find that my sleep cycle is fucked, I am cold all the time, and winter just sucks...

Fuck it, don't mean nothin'

Charlie~