Doldrums. Usually happens around Puxataney Phil regardless of his prediction. Too much salt on the road. Too much slush. Too gray, too cold, too not even March yet.
English gay people may soon be able to legally marry and Stephen Lynch “guesses” he may accept Roe v. Wade, and all sorts of better late than never things are occurring but still, Doldrums.
Scott Brown opts out—that should raise my spirit. Mo Cowan, that dear friend and ally, gets the chance to show the country that Massachusetts folks can be wise and gracious. Hillary gets to put her feet up and rest for at least a year—that does make me smile, but my smile is a weary one, a doldrum-y one, because I will miss her.
I need to face it. I sink into these doldrums of mine annually as if
I were a hibernating animal figuring that hiding until Spring is the best answer. The only difference being I continue to eat – a lot.
I am tired. Tired of election cycles that spin ‘round and ‘round. Looking “forward” to a primary in April for the Senate, another one for Hart’s seat in the State Senate, and . . .
Those pot holes! Drats.