Today I Want a Fancy Salad
Can someone please make it for me
It’s lunchtime. It’s Sunday in February, and raining and gray in the north of Scotland. I am hungry, as usual, an hour after my husband.
I feel sluggish, stodgy with carbs and meat and tea and biscuits. These are not traditionally salad days where I live.
I am wearing a fleece lined long sleeved t-shirt under a sweater and my thickest sweat pants. I want to be swaddled and cozy, but I also want to feel light.
I haven’t seen sunlight in what feels like weeks. It’s rainy and dark and cold. I caved and bought a S.A.D. lamp for the first time a couple of weeks ago.
It has become my near constant companion. Oh, I am only supposed to use it an hour a day? Tough, I now rely on it’s perky blaring light, convinced it is doing me some kind of good without feeling it yet either way.
I have long resisted their luminescent lure, coming from stiff upper lip second generation Catholic New England alcoholic Virginian stock. I practically raised myself.
Lately I think I have undiagnosed ADHD. Or maybe that’s just too much time watching bite sized videos about ADHD on the internet. I face a wave of crashing mood swings, achy joints, panic and apathy in my post Dad death Mom scary sick perimenopausal…
