It has been raining since Friday. Not quite non-stop, but close enough (and the periods between the rain have been blanketed in thick fog). I escaped the rain on Saturday, with our trip down to Charlotte, but other than that, our outdoor activities have been significantly limited.
I wouldn’t say I’ve reached the point of cabin fever, but the weather has been dragging me down a bit. So today, I’ve been reminding myself that–like everything else–the weather will pass.
I’m not sure if it is cause, or effect, or post hoc fallacy, but I also felt my first little taste of work-related stress today. As with the weather: nothing major, but I was definitely feeling the fog roll in, so to speak.
It’s funny to me how I respond to stress–or to weather-induced feelings of oppression, for that matter. I forget that it’s entirely understandable to feel these feelings. I mean really–I did just move, and I did just start a new job–I think if I didn’t feel any stress that would be more of a concern!
And four solid days of rain is a bit much, right?
So today, I weathered on. And guess what? This evening, somewhere between chopping the summer squash and breading the chicken cutlets, the fog lifted.
The emotional fog, that is. Outside it was still thick as pea soup. Maybe tomorrow we will see some sun….
As an old friend of mine liked to point out: “You know, in the Bible, it always says: it came to pass…. Never once does it say it came to stay.”