I was going to wait until I had crawled out from under the cold that has had me flattened for the last week to write anything, but it seems like that’s not going to let up completely anytime soon. So, here I am.

Who gets a cold in the summer?

I haven’t written a word of any importance anywhere in awhile. Not here, not in my other, secret journal. Not a word in a poem or a line of the story I’ve been trying to get out of my head and onto paper. Twitter and Facebook? Of course not.

I’ve also not watered my garden, folded my clothes, or cleaned my car.

It took me awhile to recognize this as the pattern that occurs periodically. I bet there are others who look at a person saying they’ve stopped doing things (or have stopped having the energy or motivation to do things) and nod knowingly, just like I do.

Oh, that.

I don’t know why it didn’t click immediately that I needed to make an effort to get over it, – it has happened often enough, with and without the aid of pharmaceuticals – but now that it has…

You better believe I’m going to consider making an effort to get over it!

Is that cheerful enough? Are you convinced? Yes? No?