A restless itch is setting in and lately I have had more and more trouble sitting at my desk for 6 hours, working for the on-line company that hired me last June.
It might be because the sun is higher in the sky. It's been too damn cold and windy recently to feel like March or spring, but the sun has been extremely bright, probably because it's reflecting off the ten foot snow banks oustide my window.
Or, it might be because my son, Yule, has been here from Hawaii for the past two weeks and talks constantly of his life on the island. He describes all the wonderful beaches, the good food, the warm and friendly people and I inwardly groan as I turn back to the monotony of the task at hand.
Or it might be the new travel magazine, Afar, that arrived today, full of wonderful looking and sounding exotic places. The pictures are bright and full of color, unlike the constant white, gray, green and blue out my window. The text is engaging and makes me want to continue reading, long past my allotted time to do so.
Or it might be because I haven't had time to work on my book for almost a week, what with work and my son being here, so the characters are fairly shouting at me to come back and pay attention to them.
Whatever the case, this itch is moving beyond a mental/stress kind of thing and into the realm of real, physical pain. I want to scratch but don't know where to start as it really isn't a physical thing at all but a restlessness born of this long winter, a lack of funds to travel, the relentless cold and myriad other things so minuscule as to go unnoticed when alone but combined together make a huge ache.
The solution? I'm not sure...turning down an invitation to watch basketball with the neighbors so I can write is a start, though. We'll see how I feel in a couple of hours.
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