I am in full hibernation mode.
My social calendar is skeletal – I have no desire to leave my house. I go to work five days a week, to the grocery on the weekends, for an occasional drink with a friend, to a baby shower for a work colleague. But I’d much rather be ensconced on my couch, curled up sorting through old recipes in front of the fire, or watching a third consecutive episode of Glee. Last Sunday I stepped outside for a grand total of 10 seconds, for the sole purpose of retrieving my newspaper.
My radio alarm clicks on way before dawn, but I’d rather stay buried deep in my cocoon of pillows and comforter. I reach for the heating pad to soothe my sore lower back, even if it’s not really hurting, just for an excuse to avoid the cold air of morning for 15 minutes longer. The gym? Hah! Even the new bike trainer I got so I could work out at home has sat unused, folded behind a chair in my living room, for almost two weeks now. I’m still nursing strained muscles in the right side of my pelvis, so walking far is out of the question, and where would I go? Baby, it’s cold outside.
Even on weekends, the sun rises, but I can’t. I crave hot chocolate and lentil soup, warm fruit compote and pots of tea. I urge myself in vain to get off the couch and lift weights for 10 minutes, but it’s hopeless.
Yes, it’s dark and frigid outside. I’m tired of the snow. I am a guilt-ridden slug, moving through my days as though running through molasses. I know I should be getting more exercise, finding fewer excuses. But I’m enjoying myself too much.
Still, there’s good news. I’m home alone, and I don’t wish for company, don’t feel left out because I’m not on someone’s invitation list. I am alone, and I am not lonely. I am happy. This is a huge victory for me: an only child, comfortable in her skin. And here in my nest, I am moving more slowly, a rarity for me in an ordinary season, when my brain and body compete in a race to the end of our day.
One day soon, I will wake up early and climb out of bed, head downstairs and drag out the bike. I will make plans with friends, see a play, go out to dinner. The sun will rise earlier, and so will I. Until then, I plan to give myself a break, put up my feet, and take a long winter’s nap.