I have heard from so many women that are in the same funk that I am. Here's a comment from Laura, in case you missed it:
Since everyone seems to be in the same boat, maybe we could call this Post Traumatic Christmas syndrome and crack open that New Year's champaigne a bit early
PTCS. I have it. Maybe you do too. Perhaps we should be making promises that our wonderful husbands and significant others will be pitching in a bit more next year. Or maybe ordering out is the answer. I'm not sure. I do know that YOU have helped me. That and sitting near comatose on my couch watching tv with absolutly no knitting or other distraction going on, including frivolous conversation.
But yesterday marked the end of my doldrums. For a couple of reasons. The first being that I got up and got dressed. In clothes. Not sweatpants. I believe this has a lot to do with healing. Makes a person feel like they are part of the real world, like it or not. After getting dressed, I got in the car and drove to Saugus, dropping Bethany off at hockey practice. This was a good sign too. Me. Out IN the world. So, what's a hockey mom to do? Shop at Target. Well, they had lots of sales. And that was good.
Then I came home and had a bit of a setback. You see, I read about SOME people knitting 50 items last year, or some such nonsense. There is only 52 weeks in my year. Holy NORma! I am a slacker extraordinairre! And then SOME others have knit 10 pairs of socks in like 3 days or some such drivel.
Okay, I then accepted that I am a knitting slacker. What of it? Does it make me a bad person? ~Please do not have the Sandy is an evil person debate linger on in the comments for too long. I have feelings too, you know!~
:)
Once I got over the great feelings of inadequacy, I went with a friend to the new IKEA. It is an hour's drive, without traffic, which is as rare as a spotted elephant. A long ride, let's just say. But we were game. Driving up to the store, the mammoth building looming over head is an experience. Shopping there was extremely pleasant if not a bit overwhelming, but frankly where else can you start your shopping with a plate of swedish meatballs? Really? Where else? No where, that's where.
And I bought, dear blog reader. I shopped. I bought woven rugs, new dishtowels, hanging stars, a roller blade lamp for Bethany's room, various lingonberry preserves along with wasa crisps. See? How could I stay in a slump with so much to do?
My favorite and most impulsive buy was this:

A cute bread basket made of tin. It is just the right size (not too big) and cute as a button. How could I resist?
After coming home, reveling in my newly discovered happy self, I then read Marcia's post. Well, the I read the first part of her post. I promised her I would go back and read the rest today. And I will. Stop nagging. I sat at my computer with chills and goosebumps, sort of reliving the instant of Bethany's car accident and the realization of what is really important in life. And it's not a dirty dish free sink or clean floor, let me tell you.
So, a happy sequence of events, culminating in a Marcia kick in the pants brought me to my senses. And I thought I'd share the process with you. Feel free to use this method as your own personal therapy, if needed.
And there's some knitting too, but this has gone on long enough, hasn't it? Really?