Hibernation
Mar. 26th, 2020 05:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tealinI joked a few entries ago about it being a long winter, but it's been interesting to observe how, physiologically at least, that's not actually far from the truth. Since getting back from Denmark and spending all day in a centrally heated house, mostly at my desk, my metabolism has fallen off a cliff and my appetite in tandem. I have a small bowl of something grainy for breakfast, one small plate of food for lunch, and sometimes am not even hungry for dinner; when I am, a bowl of soup is plenty. I am not a nap type of person, but have found myself drawn to bed for a couple of hours in the afternoon. To be fair, this may be to make up for sleep lost as housemates potter around till 11:30 most nights and I am still resolutely waking at 5:45 for some reason. I am feeling perfectly well, just very definitely in hibernation mode ... and why not? It might as well be winter on the farm in Saskatchewan. It would be a very comfortable way to doze away two months of lockdown, and goodness but it doesn't half stretch out the rations.
The trouble is, I have an awful lot to do, so burrowing down into happy dreamtime isn't really an option. I was hoping to be seeing the end of drawing roughs for Vol.1 by now, but for various reasons we still haven't left New Zealand, and I haven't drawn new pages since the beginning of March. Follow-up work for the Antarctica trip includes fun things like writing up blog posts, and less fun things like writing up my ACA report (due 1 May). There are two countries' tax records to be caught up. The ironic thing is that actual winter, with its short days and warm indoor light, puts me in the perfect headspace to do jobs like that, but the lengthening sunny days of March simply lull me to sleep.
I need to figure out a new routine, one which includes the daily government-sanctioned Outdoor Exercise. One of my problems is that everyone else in this area will be going down to Midsummer Common for the same thing, so to avoid people I'd have to get on my bike, and taking it out of the shed and through the house to the street is just enough of a faff that I'd be discouraged from doing it every day. Every time I do get out, I never regret it, and vow to do it more often, but that initial psychological hill is just that little bit too steep.
Well, it's about time for my bowl of soup so I will leave it there. I hope your respective metaphorical winters are cosy ones.
The trouble is, I have an awful lot to do, so burrowing down into happy dreamtime isn't really an option. I was hoping to be seeing the end of drawing roughs for Vol.1 by now, but for various reasons we still haven't left New Zealand, and I haven't drawn new pages since the beginning of March. Follow-up work for the Antarctica trip includes fun things like writing up blog posts, and less fun things like writing up my ACA report (due 1 May). There are two countries' tax records to be caught up. The ironic thing is that actual winter, with its short days and warm indoor light, puts me in the perfect headspace to do jobs like that, but the lengthening sunny days of March simply lull me to sleep.
I need to figure out a new routine, one which includes the daily government-sanctioned Outdoor Exercise. One of my problems is that everyone else in this area will be going down to Midsummer Common for the same thing, so to avoid people I'd have to get on my bike, and taking it out of the shed and through the house to the street is just enough of a faff that I'd be discouraged from doing it every day. Every time I do get out, I never regret it, and vow to do it more often, but that initial psychological hill is just that little bit too steep.
Well, it's about time for my bowl of soup so I will leave it there. I hope your respective metaphorical winters are cosy ones.
