The capacity for forgetting what the dark seasons of the year actually feel like is remarkable, isn’t it? I know what to expect–the time change comes, the world changes, and suddenly it’s dark at six o’clock. Can you believe it’s six?, you or I say, and, No, can you? No, I can’t.
It’s not this that’s the weird part, of course. The weird part is how the day actually shrinks. How dinner gets earlier, how you feel like it’s evening when a month ago it was late afternoon. I can understand the wicked air that comes with a sudden drop in barometric pressure, but not this seasonal dysphoria.
Why is it that I get more done with these short days? Maybe I should move to Alaska, but only for the winters.
I’d never go outside and instead write 800,000 word novels that could crush Grady Tripp without trying. That’s what I’d do in Alaska. (Shhh, Colleen, I know.)
Why, yes, I did just finish packeting for this month. I’m going to go sleep now, or possibly hibernate. It’s well after dark, after all.
3 thoughts on “Hibernation as a Sane Option”
In Glasgow the sun is going down at 3:30… by 4:15 it is full dark. I am eating lunch at 3, and being confused that it’s dinner. My whole mental state is off — but one does feel like one can stay in and do ANYTHING. It’s a good — if fleeting — feeling…
The weirdest thing for me is that suddenly I feel very alone. When I teach all day and then it’s dark at five, for some reason that makes me feel odd and lonely in my house. I’ve been popping in on various people on campus all week because I just wander in circles in my house, unsure of what to do. To early for dinner, don’t want to grade exams, etc.
It’s starting to get dark here (north of seattle) around 4PM so if there is anything planned for the afternoon at all then it feels like the whole day is just gone before it even has a chance to start. So odd.
And no, I won’t get started on Alaska….except they have had snow on the ground since the first week in October and already been down to zero. Hibernate, indeed!
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