I could feel it coming on yesterday, like a train spotted in the distance while you stand on the track, feeling the rumble.
The light rain in the morning changed my plans to walk and garden, so I spent time planning my day's activities. Major cleaning projects needed to be tackled, as did chauffeuring of the teenager, grocery shopping, baking and cooking.
The teenager had to be dropped off at 830a. As we passed the grocery store on the way, I remarked that I should have planned better and brought my list, so I could shop on the way home. My son commented that maybe I needed to use my brain power instead. Taking that as a challenge, I did get groceries after dropping him off, and managed to remember everything I needed for today's menu.
It was still gray and misting when I got home to a quiet house. After unpacking the groceries, I reheated my coffee and sat down to read for a bit. I noticed my energy decreasing as my mind wandered from the pages to think about all the unfinished tasks I wanted to accomplish this spring break, and the things that absolutely, positively had to be done this weekend.
The train had arrived; the end of spring break blues had hit me.
I thought making the cookie dough would cheer me up; baking is usually a meditative process for me. The kitchen counter needed a good cleaning first, but I used my favorite scented cleaner, which brightened my mood a bit. I gathered the ingredients and began creaming the sugar and shortening. So far, so good...until I opened the nearly-full container of flour, and spotted little moving brown bits. Crap! Where did they come from? My baking process was now interrupted by dumping the flour and thoroughly washing the container with hot, soapy water, so I could dry it and replace the flour with a fresh bag. I got the dough made, but the spell was broken; the bad mood returned.
Avoidance by napping is a go-to vice, and the couch beckoned. A half-hour later, I awoke with the urge to go for a walk. Gray skies accompanied me on the path, illustrating my mood. I got home and started attacking my pile of shoes and the mess on my vanity. I got some satisfaction from vacuuming hair balls, dust bunnies and cobwebs; once I detached the wand, I became a dust-seeking machine, even attempting to clean the bathroom ceiling vent.
Taking a break, I remembered that I still had to call the insurance company to get financial details for my son's upcoming surgery. For my forty-five minutes, I got the runaround instead; my mood worsened.
Shoes still littered our dressing area, but I realized the dough was chilled enough to bake. I dove into rolling and cutting eighty shamrock cookies, watching the timer to turn the baking sheets every three and a half minutes.
My husband came home as I was halfway through icing the cookies. The dressing area was still a mess, and I hadn't started dinner yet. The end of spring break blues ...bah, humbug!