People talk about seasonal depression and how Fall seems to be a trigger. I've never thought of myself as one of those people that fall victim to seasonal depression, but I do get antsy with season changes. This week it seems that the antsiness is beginning to get to me.
I've been easily frustrated with breaks in my routine but at the same time apathetic. Tonight is dust and vacuum night and I wasn't really into the idea of dusting. Chris caught me touching the dust rag to a spot on the shelf. I was testing it to see just how dusty it was. He let me off the hook by saying that he planned to take the air-conditioning unit out of the window this weekend and re-install the screen. He said I could wait to dust until then. I shrugged and moved onto the vacuum.
My sleep has been off. Last night I struggled to get to sleep. I was hot. I was cold. I itched. When I finally did fall asleep, I dreamed. I dreamed that for "science purposes" we were going to shoot my foot at point blank and study the exit wound and repeat with the second foot (we've been watching a lot of Fringe lately). We did both feet and I have no comparisons, but if gun shots hurt as badly as they do in dreams, then I pray to the Gods that I never get shot. So I woke up and in pain, which didn't make sense because there was nothing physically wrong with me.
But then, I'll do something simple like ride the scooter home or dance like a fool in Zumba and I'll become lighter, happier. The frustrations and the struggles melt away. The guy in these pictures walks on glass as his performance art. Well, I think we are all performance artists. We all walk on glass every day. There are days where walking on glass is just not as easy as this guy makes it look. We may cut our feet. But then there are days where we prance around on that glass as if it were a pile of feathers. Monday and Tuesday were my days to practice walking on glass. There have been a few cuts, but nothing that requires stitches or even a band-aid. The rest of this week, I'll be walking on feathers.