This article is from the original Chicano in Paris recently moved here to its new home.
I never knew what seasonal depression was until I spent six long years living in Northeast Ohio. The sky was a drab grey for over 200 days a year in Akron. And the gray sat so low in the sky as to suffocate whatever life was left in you. Since my great escape from Drabistan I find myself falling to melancholy after too many grey days in a row.
This is all to say that I have been in a funk lately. Most of the year the weather in Paris covers every season at least once for at least an hour at some point everyday. Except for winter. Winter is cold, sure. But the sky is a concrete slab in winter. Heavy, and miserable, and … it’s kept me inside the last several weeks except to walk to Dexter and he’ll tell you this is some bullshit, too, because his walkies are decidedly shorter.
But I woke up Thursday and the sky c’est azur magnifique! My spirits began to lift and Dexter got the kind of walk that left his little legs wobbly from exhaustion. Seriously, I walked him almost six miles. It was glorious and made for a much less annoying afternoon.
I came home and opened the curtains in every room. I put on my Songs I Never Skip playlist and danced like my neighbors weren’t watching. It’s amazing how much my mood change impacted everything from my productivity to my creativity.
Suddenly, the demise of the Great Experiment didn’t seem so serious. The strife in Palestine and Ukraine seemed surmountable. Dexter dragging his ass across the rug was less … no, that is still gross and annoying.
So today I grabbed the camera, left the dog at home, and let myself wander.
Out and about in the 16eme today
In the coming days I will be spending more time outside… wandering. It’s good for my soul and my mental health. With the world being complete shit lately, I really do need to go lost in my city.
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