It’s official: The Bunker (and all its inhabitants) have hit The Mid-Winter Slump. MWS for short.
What’s the Mid-Winter slump?
It’s the point, usually sometime around the middle of February, where you feel as though winter is Never. Going. To. End.
You look out at the snowy (or grey, which is probably worse) winter day, and think – “spring is never going to come. I’m in a Twilight Zone episode, one called ‘The Endless Season’ or something equally cryptic, and it’s going to end with me staring into space, having officially gone insane.”
This is the point at which you have a hard time telling days – even months – apart. Are we still in January? Is it finally February? Did we get to March yet? No? Ohgodpleasedon’ttellmethatIcan’thandleanothermonththatdrags….
Somehow, we all (hopefully) manage to make it out of the MWS. Unfortunately, I can’t seem to remember how I’ve done it in the past.
So help a sister out. How do you get yourself and your family out of the dreaded MWS? Any and all suggestions will be considered.
{ 6 comments… read them below or add one }
There is, tragically, no cure, because winter really is never going to end. We are stuck in mid-February until our dying sun fails and we are at last subsumed by the ensuing explosion.
Meanwhile, if I read Bradbury’s “All Summer in a Day” I at least gain the strength to make it through another week. It was originally prescribed for rainy gray days, but works well for endless winters too. The story is handily online: http://www.wssb.wa.gov/content/Classrooms/tate/content/freshman/All%20Summer%20In%20a%20Day/story.htm
WARNING: For about 70% of readers, this story exacerbates rather than alleviates symptoms. Do not consume without alcohol.
That story always makes me cry.
Do you enjoy making girls cry? Huh? Huh??
Good God, I know. I am reminded of a quote from ‘Harriet the Spy’ about the ensuing trauma after her friends confiscate her journal: “Without her notebook her thoughts limped along like crippled children,” That is EXACTLY how this feels. Its so cold, I dread going outside at night in it…which makes two nights of ambulance duty suck so much…every irritation is magnified and my house is a mess and I can’t seem to rouse myself to improve it.
I think in the coming week I’m going to just hunker down and commit myself to my Flylady missions and try to improve my surroundings in hopes that it in turn improves my mood. I feel like all my energy goes toward staying warm.
I hear you – I don’t want to think about the cleaning job(s) I need to get to. But I think I’m gonna hold off until spring – i get more more motivated then, anyway, and the warm breeze coming through the window makes it more enjoyable for me
I grant you that it’s kind of perverse that Bradbury’s story makes me feel BETTER, but no, I don’t enjoy making people cry. Except when they really, really need some broken, wrong-headed convictions shattered, and even then, I’d prefer to find other ways.
I understand that – Harlan Ellison’s stories always cheer me up, and his stuff is…contemplative at best, downright horrifying at worst. You didn’t make me cry, anyway – the story did. And besides, I knew what I was doing – I’ve read that story a hundred times in the past. I had full knowledge.
But I still kinda blame you