It’s incredible how behaviour is determined by the amount of sunlight you get.
In winter, I’m The Procrastinator. If i had any graphical skills, I could invent a costume for The Procrastinator sub-hero: it would involve ball and chain on both feet, lots of shades of gray, and droopy shoulders.
Then, as soon as spring arrives (or erupts), I come out of hibernation. That to-do list that whines away at the back of my conscience melts like snow before the sun (literally). From getting that new toothbrush (check) to getting that roof fixed (next week).
Maybe I should move. I drink way too little to apply the nordic strategy, which is boozing the winter over (btw try a few winters in Glasgow – same latitude as Stockholm – and you’ll know what suicidal means).
And if we don’t invent a better way to store or generate energy by the time we run out of fossil fuels, I know where I want to be, and it’s not here.
