Snowpocalypse Part II / Cabin Fever

I'm sitting in bed enjoying my essential oils diffuser.

It is diffusing a doterra (that's a company) calming blend of lavender, sweet marjoram, Roman chamomile, ylang ylang, Hawaiian sandalwood, and vanilla oils and extracts.

Yes, I just read the label. Now I want to go shopping for some of these pure oils like chamomile and marjoram. The blend is called "Serenity" and man, it smells good when you can smell it.

Whenever I'm lying down and trying to fall asleep (prime time to enjoy "Serenity" or any other essential oil) I get all stuffed up and can't smell a dang thing. That's why I'm sitting up. It's sort of helping. Sometimes if I breathe with my mouth open in can taste the smells in the air. Great, right?

It's morning, like 7:30 morning, and I am voluntarily awake. I have spent the past two days inside in front of the fireplace working on all possible things. I even put all of my clothes away.

You see, the snowpocalypse actually happened. It gave the media plenty to do. They have named the storm "Jonas," pointed out that you can see the storm from space (as you can probably see most storms if you look hard enough), and have gone so far as to call it "The Storm of a Generation."

A generation.

Which generation? And don't you remember all those other big snowstorms you've reported?

I'd call it the storm of a generation if its results looked a little more like the previews did for "the Day after Tomorrow." Come on!

It would be better if I woke up later, because if I were asleep I would not be experiencing cabin fever.

I'm pretty sure cabin fever is what people out west in the pioneer days used to experience when it snowed so high they couldn't see out their windows and they might never make it back home if they went out for firewood (once again: we think we have it bad). They would be stuck inside all winter and go crazy. Hm, I'm going to have to look this up and get back to you to see if cabin fever truly was a kind of illness in those days.

In 2016 America, our attention spans have shortened some and two days inside can have similar effects to an entire winter's effects on a pioneer. 

I will go out today because my sanity depends on it. In feel like my blood is in the same locale in my body as it was two days ago because I have barely moved (except running up and down the stairs many times to get chargers and books and things - offerings at the altar of the fireplace).

I plan to write until it is time to get up.

Don't worry, that's soon.

If only I could greet every day with the same kind of bored get-me-out-of-this-bed i-don't-care-how attitude. Well, maybe not.

There's simply nothing to do anymore. You know all of those things you'll do when you have time? Well, I either did them or realized I never wanted to in the first place. I learned long ago never to tell Mom there's nothing to do because she likes bringing up things I don't want to do. I don't need her help when it comes to "things to do."

My friend once shared this with me: "We are human BEings, not human DOings." I think about this a lot, since my life is centered around doing things, seeing people, smelling oils, going places - what does it mean to just be? Can I be and do at the same time? Do I have to meditate and do yoga in order to fulfill my destiny as a being? Because it's impossible to sit still when there's a world of DO's.

I also made and photographed jewelry during the snowstorm. My Etsy shop is called GroundPickerJewelry.

Shameless plug. Get out of bed, my people, and enjoy that day of yours!