It is the first day of December. Here come the moods.
Not all bad moods, not all warm and fuzzy moods, just moods. December is a moody month for me. I think a lot during the middle months, so December, the last month, the end to a year, a holiday month, really gets me going.
Some people are depressed in December. Actually, some people are depressed as soon as it gets cold, or around the holidays. I’m thankful I don’t have to deal with much of that, but my mind is bursting, stuffed, during December. It’s not like January, January is a busy mind month, goal setting, annoy the crap out of myself month. Remember last January when I said I was learning Italian this year…silly January, what were you thinking?
December isn’t jumpy toddler like January. It’s dreamy, often reflective. It seems every December asks me to look at the previous year, as it does with many people, but it also sprinkles my mind with “what if” statements. What if life is nothing more than a series of steps? What if I was born with a single purpose, no choices? What if the best is yet to come? What if I’m lost? I let my mind take me through the good and bad moods of me. The me I am, the me I may have been, or could be in the future.
It is a fantastic month for writing. I know December should be all about giving and others, and I do that too, but kind of at the last minute, only when I have to tear free. I feel more in my mind than I do in the real world during December. Maybe that’s why I forget to pick up the dry cleaning before holiday events and my Christmas shopping is never done on time.
I settle in during the last month of the year, allow myself flights of fancy, foggy imaginings.
Maybe it’s my way of bracing myself for crazy We Can Do Better This Year January.
My thoughts from the laundry room. Dreamy Time.