Marie Kondo and the Discontent

My last post began the autumn of my discontent.

I resolved to get singing lessons or piano lessons and achieve goals and I did none of those things.

I did become mildly depressed, so I can't say I didn't do anything.

January is a funny month.  On the one hand, we feel like it's a time to set intentions and become new people.  On the other hand, it's cold and wet and unpleasant out there and mostly all I want to do is curl up in a blanket, eat and drink warm things, and watch the endless stream of blockbuster entertainment that flows from my smart tv.

I've been starting slowly, but there is a lot of "new" in my life.

I'm in a new band.  I have new furniture which has sparked a Marie Kondo-esque purge of my house.  New goals.  New approaches.  New hopes.

But the general malaise of autumn 2018 is not so far behind me that I don't see myself slipping back into it if I'm not careful.  And my most burning of desires still seem so far away that I'm not sure I'll ever achieve them, which makes the general comfort of stress eating and couch potato-ing that much more appealing.

I get that feeling that I have to do something big.  I have to turn my whole life completely upside down.  After I do that, I'll have a purpose again and feel like things are going the way they should.  It's kind of like rearranging your purse and starting by upending it to dump everything out onto the floor in front of you.  Sure, it's easier to find things when you've gone through it, but there's always the danger that in the upending, one of my most prized lipglosses is going to roll under the couch never to be seen again (this is a metaphor, btw, I'm not really talking about lipgloss here), and it is basically guaranteed that within a month of two my purse is going to become the same old shitshow of crumpled receipts, unwrapped restaurant cheque candies and tangled phone charge cords it always is.

So what I'm saying is: I need to be vigilant.  Or I'll never get my purse clean.