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My Emotional Well Being is Directly Effected by my Fishing

Its obvious – this winter has sucked more than just about anything has ever sucked before.  We have written about it (see tomorrow’s Bananas column), you have probably written about it, we have discussed it with our family, friends, co-workers ad nauseum.

I’ve always held the strong belief that spending time in the water waving a stick around had an enormous therapeutic value, allowing me to restore a bit of order and sanity in my life.   It took every grain of my being this winter to not check myself into a mental institution as I grew increasingly frustrated and depressed as a direct result of my lack of fishing activities.  The brutal beat down that was Michigan winter of 2013/2014 tested me in ways that I have not been tested before.

But I survived.

Then the skies finally parted, and the extreme bitter temps gave way to somewhat bearable conditions.  I fished and it was glorious.  I had a chance to experience a feeling that I would think is similar to the feeling I’d have if Kate Upton swooped down from the heavens riding a Budweiser horse to rescue me from a near death experience.  Yeah man – it felt that awesome to be able to fish again.  Last week, all week it felt awesome to be me.  Work went well, food tasted better, I felt like I could accomplish anything.

Then this past weekend came.  Why was it too much for me to expect 2 solid weekends of decent (I’m not even hopeful of ideal) conditions?  This weekend for me sucked – it was brutal, so bad that it sent me spiraling back towards the depths of whatever hell we’ve been trapped in for what seems like ever.  It was frigid – like iced out guides every 4 seconds, have to stand in the blazing hot shower for 45 because your bones hurt, cold.  And to add to that both different watersheds I fished were absolutely raging (one of them being straight up yoohoo colored) making it next to impossible to do anything effectively – evoking us to risk life and limb with every crossing.

A 7 minute, 43 second string of nothing but expletives and made up words floated across my lips as soon as my morning alarm went off this morning.  I hated my cereal it tasted garbage.  My job couldn’t be any worse today.  I yelled at an old lady because I thought she was “mean mugging” me.  I am not ok in the head right now – what a difference a week makes eh?  Is it at all rational that my emotional well being is tied to fishing?  Does the perceived value I place on my existence depend on fishing?

Michigan is awesome they say, the 4 seasons are wonderful they say, the summers are beautiful they say.  Yeah – real sweet that we will have 4 unbelievable sucky seasons this year – winter, winter, summer, winter.

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