Dead Zone

Alternate Title The Doldrums of January

Don’t normal people take those down by now? My daughter points at our dead sagging tree. It’s kind of embarrassing, she’s totally right. I have a disturbing lack of motivation. I can tell by how many crumbs are still on the counter. Lots of crumbs likely means I’m just starting to lose it. Anything sticky means I’ve already lost it.

I can’t remember if I need to rewash the laundry or if it’s empty and needs to be filled. The only thing I do know is that it’s not ready to go into dryer. It’s been days since I washed it. I wonder how long it has to sit there before it grows mushrooms on it. Can wet laundry grow mushrooms?

Passing through the kitchen I think I smell the steak grease rotting on a pan that was under the cupcake pan from last week when my daughter’s friends were over. I totally forgot it was under there. Gross. I’m disgusting, a sloth, a slob, lazy. Stop. We (me) agreed no negative self talk in 2024. You are overwhelmed. You have seasonal affective disorder. You are trying your best. I roll my eyes at the empty room.

There’s a huge crash, followed by a shattering glass sound. I don’t flinch or move because I know what it is. Our Xmas tree ornaments started dropping two weeks ago. Now the bottom two rows are sitting on the floor. At least those ones can’t break. Small blessings.

The sounds of mid January are all around. The doldrums, the lean times, the dead zone. Conversations in our house are starting to go like this. Can I go late? Sure. Can we order McDonald’s? Fine. Can I not do my homework tonight? No problem. I’ve been wearing the same shirt and sweatpants since Sunday stained from each day’s coffee. You can tell I put more almond milk in it one day because that stain is lighter. Who am I to judge?

Tonight’s planned activity is to watch the Kardashians. Same as every night for the last few weeks, we do 5,6 episodes at a time. They are starting to feel like family at this point. My daughter and I sit and scroll our phones stopping to point out to each other the news on the famous siblings. She pauses the tv. Oh my God Tristan is suspended! Well that figures, she says. He’s a snake.  We watch a few minutes. She pauses the show again and this time I tell her that yesterday my sister said to watch Vanderpump rules. We wrinkle our noses with disgust. Who would watch that garbage we say. Pass me the pickle flavored Lays I tell her. She hits play.