It’s a new world out there.
A world where I spend a lot of time writing post cards to my senators, listening to political podcasts, and getting pretty depressed.
I used to feel like paying attention to politics was a hobby. Listening to Rachel Maddow an hour a day, checking in on what the white house has been up to.
Now it feels like it’s grown out of what I can handle. And now that it’s become a depressing day job I can’t handle additional heaps of upset. A few weeks ago I was given Colson Whitehead’s, The Underground Railroad. I’ve had to put it down. Now when I read something that isn’t politics it has to be light and fluffy. Which is unfortunate because that’s not really my style.
So it turns out that my self-care is much more about knitting than reading. In fact much more knitting than I anticipated it ever would be.
I’m finding that I crave it all of a sudden. I spend hours looking at patterns and yarns. Sorting through my yarn stash for what can go together, looking up new techniques.
And when I can’t scratch that itch, I get antsy. I’m a grumpy grinch.