Do you ever have days of being totally unfocused? That's where I'm at today. Below zero temps have frozen my storefront door shut. Who's coming out today anyway? At least one person is out and about. I watched her read the sign explaining about the frozen door and requesting that customers round the corner and use the 17th street entrance. For some reason, she chose not to do that; hopped back in her car and headed off.
With the potential of few (or no) customers, I made up my "To Be Do" list which included some new and some long neglected tasks. Nothing, repeating...nothing has been accomplished. Oh, I got some Heart-A-Rama emails sent, but that's about it. This lack of focus comes on the heels of a disturbing weekend epiphany. I've been thinking it's time to cut back on theatre for a lot of reasons I won't go into. I was happily calculating all the free time I will have when it hit me - I don't sing in a church choir, or any choir for that matter; no one would want me. I don't play bridge, poker or bowl. Knitting and crocheting - nope. Rope jumping or anything of that ilk - no thank you. I whittled the list of things I don't do all the way down to stamp collecting - which I might be capable of, but have no interest in. So, if I cut back on theatre, what will I do? How will I get a creative fix? People close to me know that I am basically a crank, but when the right side of my brain is not getting a workout...well, then "cranky" doesn't begin to cover it.
Reading is always a fine option. My year of murder and mayhem continues with this novel set in Victorian London. In 1840, London is experiencing a recession and nineteen year-old Catherine Sorgeriul pretty much stays locked away in her room. Catherine's the nervous type, and the pervasive feeling of desolation and fear throughout London prevents her from feeling secure - that and a series of murders of young women.
The graphic details of the crimes are hard to read; Catherine uses the details provided in newspaper accounts and begins writing stories about the victims. She also writes about the perpetrator and then the trouble begins for her.
Fast paced and gritty. Great book for a snowy day or a below zero self-imposed hibernation.