End of the Year Blues

I find that I usually have the blues this time of year. We have the big build-up of Christmas preparations, lasting a couple of months. But the actual delivery of the holiday is over in half an hour, if you really work at dragging it out. 

Ever since I was a small child, I've tried to deal with the "is that all there is?" feeling of Christmas afternoon. And I would feel guilty that I wasn't still excited and ecstatic as I had been that very morning. Alas, the best part is over, and there's no going back.

I really wish sometimes that other people could hear the soundtrack in my head. This blog post has a great blues track. It's slow and plodding, with a smooth guitar back and me singing my heart out. But you can't hear it, and actually, it changes every time I try to think about it.

I don't really do the resolution thing, and I'm not going on a new diet. I don't like the feeling that all of America, if not a good share of the world, expects me to follow the rest of the herd, and start dieting. I gave up dieting in the 80's when it was either stop obsessing about my scale, or be overwhelmed by my neuroses, and curl up in a little ball in the corner for the next decade. I threw away my scale, and now only get weighed when I go to the doctor.

And that's traumatic enough once every three months. I don't sleep for two nights before any doctor appointment, because I know that no matter what, the scale is going to lie. I know I'm pleasantly plump, to put it mildly. I don't need to step on a scale and worry about the fluctuations to know that. And I'm happier without the guilt. I'm a fat white woman, and glad of it. I embrace my body type, and love myself the way I am. How many other women in the United States of America can say that?

I qualify that as an American obsession because when I've lived in other places, Brazil and Germany to be specific, I didn't find anywhere near the same paranoia about fat as I do here. People in these other countries don't despise me automatically because I'm not willow-thin. In Brazil, I was considered a beautiful woman that old men wanted to talk to, and little boys would follow down the street. It was a new thing for me. I finally saw myself in a more favorable light than I ever had before. I am a beautiful woman, with flashing blue eyes, and (when I was younger) striking blond hair.

But enough Maundering for now. I've got the blues. The only thing I can do now, is HOKAIC. For those of you that don't know the acronym, it means Hands On Keyboard, Ass In Chair.

I'm going to take the New Year, and get back on schedule. I'm going to write.