The weather has turned to autumn, which in my part of the world means we’re starting to flirt with freezing. In fact, there are several nights in the week’s forecast with lows that will hopefully frost the life out of the plants that have been doing their best to make me miserable over the last fortnight or so. So the days of having my windows open to cool the house with wind (we don’t have air-conditioning) are behind me this year. Which is good by me; I’m a winter spirit.

But an incident from the windy-times stands out in my head as I try not to be frustrated with myself this week. I was standing at my kitchen island seasoning potatoes. And every time I tried to sprinkle my chaotically crafted herbal blend (comprised of some of this, some of that, a bit more of this thing than I’d meant to put in, maybe some salt? etc) the wind gusted through the screen door, rushing its way towards the the open upstairs window and blowing my seasonings right at me.

Humans can be stubborn once they start a task, so I didn’t get a face full of things that were meant for potatoes only once. It happened at least three times before I realized I should close the dang door for a minute.

This relates to my problem with the entire first half of October. The wind isn’t blowing my spices everywhere except onto my food, but circumstances beyond my control are interfering with my productivity. (Content Warning: The follow may count as a rant.)

First, there was worry about North Carolina. My mother’s from Spruce Pine, she had family members it took days to contact and relief was initially having to come in by helicopter because all of the roads were gone. Even sitting on the other side of the continent, it was distracting. A friend observed that being worried about people you know not surviving a natural disaster is a perfectly reasonable excuse for distraction, and he wasn’t wrong. But it was frustrating.

Then my body freaked out on me. I lose several days a month to the intensity of my periods, yet I act surprised and frustrated with myself over it every single cycle.

Then my allergies went into overdrive thanks to whatever it is that thinks its right to reproduce trumps my right to breath.

And now I’m experiencing fatigue, brain fog, and a multiday headache. Because menopause has meant I get to have a few days of that midcycle now. Gee, thanks, body.

And the house is a disaster. Which drains my energy further. And which is hard to do anything about when I’m already exhausted and hurting, and my partners are either busy or also struggling.

Basically the last few weeks have been nonstop things I didn’t ask for draining my energy to the point that when I do get work on my novels done, it’s slow and laborious. Toss in the detail that I’m suffering from a lack of focus due to the detailed feedback my partner was supposed to give me on the draft I was *supposed* to spend this month working on still not being something I possess, because she’s also having health nonsense and focus issues going on… It would be stranger if I felt like I *had* accomplished anything.

So, yeah. I haven’t been productive this month. I’m frustrated with myself. And listing the legitimate challenges that have contributed to the situation makes me feel like I’m whining and creating excuses, that I need to just shut up and get things done. And THAT goes back to a lot of baggage and unhealthy messaging from childhood that I’m not going to delve into now.

I’m pretty sure I need to close the dang window. I just can’t figure out which one is open.