Melancholy

Melancholy. It's as close an approximation I can come to the German "Weltzschmerz."

So that's how I'm feeling today - not sad and certainly not depressed - just a grey melancholy - as grey as the cloud cover that has hugged this island for so many weeks that I am beginning to wonder if blue skies ever really existed - or did we just imagine them? Skies so grey that I actually "get it" about the Twilight series being set in the Pacific Northwest because vampires really shouldn't be around sunshine. Skies so grey that I wonder at the logic of ordering two new pairs of glasses yesterday - do I really need the sunglasses?

Okay, but grey skies and a cold May are only two tiny reasons for my melancholy. I have to add into that mix the fact that I was diagnosed with cataracts yesterday and although I know it's really no biggie, I still don't like it.

And then there's the rather painful learning I am doing about myself. Two people I trust very, very much read my manuscript, "In Dog Years" and commented on the main character - none of the comments were flattering. She's goofy, silly, weak and depends too much on a man to make her happy - or at least to steer the direction of the relationship. Why would an obviously intelligent woman be like that?

Well, assuming I modeled the character after me, that takes some looking at. In my defense, the alter ego (the dog) is much more astute - hmmm - so in real life I am a failure as a woman but a success as a dog. Now I ask you, is that enough to drive anyone to the brink of Weltschmerz?

Oh - and on top of all that, I set out on an all day hike this morning and only went for two hours because my heart wasn't in it. And I hate not doing what I set out to do. Purely obsessive-compulsive.

There - that should about do it. Let me know if you think I left anything out. if I did, just shoot me with a stale pop tart.