It was about time it got to be April. Sometimes I wish I could be a bear, you know, eat a lot in the fall, get fat, sleep all winter, and wake up skinny. But of course, I do it the other way. I'm skinny (as I can be) in the fall because of mowing the grass for nine months. Then I eat like crazy all winter, and generally have to mow grass in March, more to avoid having to buy new pants than to crewcut the lawn.
Writing for me goes through seasons too. I get into a kind of down season when I finish a draft of a book sized project, which I just did. It's a 40, 000 word story, and I spent a couple of weeks in the dumps. I get to liking the people I guess, and parting from them is not sweet sorrow.
Physical activity is good for things besides pants size. I mowed today and am ready to go to work again.
Ah springtime of the writing seasons.