I think I've been drugged. It's the only conclusion I can come to for why, for the past three days, I have spent most of my time yawning, snoozing, wishing I was in bed, talking about being tired, sleeping or saying "I don't know why I'm so tired". Either someone slipped something into the Christmas cake or Dad is piping some sleeping gas through the air con. Which, come to think of it, might not be such a bad idea with two wet-weather-housebound kids running around. Don't tell family services.
It's like that feeling you get after you have just finished Christmas dinner, when you have eaten enough to feed a small animal (like a baby elephant....for a month), and you just want to lie on the couch but instead have to tackle the washing up for 12 people who also ate enough to feed the rest of Noah's ark. Christmas lunch lethargy. Only mine started a day early.
If it's not the sleeping gas, that it must be the last four years of expending 110% effort as corporate girl finally catching up with me. I can only hope it doesn't last too long. Even typing this blog I keep wanting to let my head have a wee little rest on the keyboard. It's going to be a long six months if this keeps up.
This rain, on the other hand, is welcome to keep up. This is good, stay-indoors-and-write kind of weather. As opposed to stay-indoors-watching-movies-under-the-doona kind of weather, which would be procrastinaction and Christmas lunch lethargy combined at their worst. It's all about the writing, Kathryn. Repeat after me, it's all about the writing.
I can also only hope that this weather is not replaced by hot, sunny days when I might be found sunning myself on the beach with the feeble excuse of doing research for that very important beach scene. Bring on the floods! The less reasons I have for leaving the house, the better.
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