A day for the soul
I'd had some hope that the "being a full-time writer" thing would mean no season depression this year. It was only some hope, as many people through the ages have suffered with depression even without day jobs. But, as work tended to be the thing I fixed on as what I was unhappy about, I thought maybe not going to work would mean less seasonal depression, even as the nights get long and cold. And it may yet mean that.

However, I woke up this morning, feeling discouraged about all the various things I do and mean to do, and with no particular reason to feel discouraged--things were fine yesterday. I suspect it's just the season.

Anyway, another advantage of not having a day job is that I don't have a fixed schedule. So, this morning I told Jackie that I wanted the two of us to get out and do something together. We took the bus to campus and went to the Spurlock Museum, which is having a little tiny exhibit on Archaea (microbes that are genetically distinct from bacteria). It had a Nobel prize! I mean, the actual gold medallion, there in the display case. I'd never seen one of those before. Researchers at the University had won it for their work on Archaea.

The Spurlock is actually a fine little museum. It's like museums used to be. For example, it has plaster cast copies of great sculptures from all over the world--the Venus de Milo, busts of Julius Caesar, Socrates, Nero, friezes from Athenian temples, etc. Nowadays, museums don't want copies of great stuff. They want originals, even if they're crappy, third-rate stuff that doesn't exemplify anything other than that people 2000 years ago made crappy stuff too.

After the museum, we went to Harold's fried chicken. Jackie ate at the one in Hyde Park a lot when she lived there. They'd opened one here months ago, and we'd been meaning to go, but hadn't made it until today.

So. Good to get out. Good to take the bus rather than drive on the slushy roads. Good to walk on campus. Good to see the exhibits at the Spurlock. Good to eat Harold's fried chicken.

I got some fiction writing done this morning, before we headed out. I may do some more this afternoon, or I may do a Wise Bread post, or I may just read.

Tomorrow there's supposed to be freezing rain. I always say, if the weather can't be good, it should at least be bad enough to be interesting. Maybe that will qualify.