Winter 2020

 Dreadful winter is here

but I don't fucking want it.

The expenses, the cold, the short days. 

The special sales with not enough money.

The dull, gray exteriors and the colder-than-fridge interiors.

I´m not myself in the winter. 

Winters make me old. They bring out the evil witch I managed to silence inside of me on warmer months.

I am a Grinch, never giving out Christmas gifts.

I thought I was just selfish, but I really can't afford them. 

And I am selfish.

I could never get my daughter excited about the Holidays.

There is just too much family drama surrounding those memories.

Grandpa and Grandma are no longer at our table. 

Christmas is never going to be the same again.

Every effort seems worthless.

There were so many years, so many smiles taken for granted:

A warm home. The furnace on. The coffee boiling. The turkey in the oven. And those warm arms that were always willing to embrace me and made things instantly better. The big house.

All those things are gone. 

I've been trying to make my home warm in the winter and turn around this bitter spell, but I can't.

I guess I lack optimism. Or money. Or maybe I am too whiney.

Times have changed.

Miserable winter is here.

If it weren't for you, it would not be worth living.