Doldrums

It's been a long and eventful week since I was last here. And I'm pooped.

Some of those events have been positive. President Obama has come and gone safely home. Whew. He endeared himself to this country by waving to the crowd and by making an impromptu stop for donuts. (What could be more Canadian, other than an improptu game of shinny?) The Prime Minister appeared to be gracious. But it was the Governor-General who made a big hit with the president; she and her family have been invited to Washington. (Harper wasn't.)

For the rest of the time, what I've been doing isn't all that interesting.

I do have one addition to the list of things that sound like more fun than they really are: Somali pirates. Doesn't "pirate" sound all exciting and swashbuckly? Don't be fooled: Captain Jack Sparrow they ain't.

I've been involved in various other projects over the past several days that have been tiring if rewarding and are, at last, over.

So it's time to get back to work, which includes taxes in two countries and a little long-term financial planning--unless that's a concept that doesn't even make sense these days, in which case I'll just meet with the planner and pretend, thanks.

I think I'm not the only one who feels a little caught in the doldrums. People seem to feel just sorta blah.

And can you blame them/us/me? Now that there is actually a new president in the U.S. and the Canadian government is somewhat functional, the political news is back to (yawn) mostly boring. And what is there to look forward to? The president's visit created a frisson of interest, but he's come and gone. The economic news is grim, the situation in Afghanistan is getting more attention that uses the word "deteriorating," and the 2010 Olympics are still nearly a year away.

We're inundated with "frugal chic" and "comfort food on a budget" and "replicating the Oscar look for le$$" and "potluck parties." A sign at the gym today exhorted, "March is coming! Let's have some fun with it!" Because apparently February was a bust, and wearing flowered t-shirts will cheer us up.

Today is Mardi Gras, the ultimate party that ushers in six weeks of contemplation and denial. Woo hoo. If only we could be sure it would be only six weeks, instead of six years, or sixteen.

Still, in the midst of this limbo, I find comfort in the returning sunlight. I know that spring is nowhere near arriving--check back in three months--but at least the sun rises near 8 and sets at 6.

No matter what else we're doing to the planet, it continues its looping circles. And while not all movement is progress, some is. It must be. And so, I too will keep moving.