The post holiday malaise is upon is, and it’s a corker.  I want to float away in a nitrous balloon.  Can’t we just move straight to egg colouring and double rainbows?  Christ on a cracker.  What is there to look forward to in the next next?  Another snowocalypse, goodie. 

The prognostications of weather-related gloom and despair for tomorrow have been a-chattering all day.  The frenzy would suggest I should burrow beneath my desk with a flask of Jaeger and not attempt to leave the premises.  It is appealing to join in the anticipation of a white out, for a snow day in the studio would be lovely. 

I don’t count on it, though.  The more people talk, the more I expect that there will be the merest waft of powder, like the dust settling over my heart lo these bleak months.