Ack!! Fog is hanging thick in the trees and I’m checking to see if this is going to burn off or if we’re stuck with a gray day. In the meantime, I’m turning on every light in the house–my version of light therapy. There’s just something about this time of year that it’s far too easy to slide into depression.
To add insult to injury, a friend called me a couple of weeks ago. Yet another friend of a friend had a time share in Aruba that was expiring and would I like to go the last week of February? Uh-huh. As it now.
Gee, let me think…cold, barren-treed Atlanta or an island in the Caribbean? Don’t have to burn too many brain cells working out that one.
Passport? Check.
Bathing suit? Check.
Pedicure? Check.
What more do you need to visit a tropical paradise?
Manuscript on schedule…picture Edvard Munch’s The Scream at this point. :O Problem is I’ve owned a little case of writer’s block and slipped behind schedule. Plus, there’s the familial duty thing–my daughter’s on winter break this week….
Total WAH! Forget sea kayaking, sugar white sand, blue and green hued translucent water, cabana boys bearing Mai Tais… Wait!! I have a lap top. Right! Face it, this dog’s just not gonna hunt. 
So, it’s Send-Your-Daughter-To-Work-Week-With-Her-Dad at our house, I’m mentally locked in that apartment during a blackout, and trying very hard not to think about Aruba.
Oh yeah, and turning on lots of lights.
