Spring fever...

It's hard to put my finger on why, but lately it's been a little hard to corral some enthusiasm.

Maybe it's the sunshine rays filtering through my boss's office and make their way to my little cubicle. It's like they are taunting me to come outside and play.

Maybe it's the relentless grumpiness that seems to have engulfed all my co-workers of late. One of them kind of grumbled at me as I made an attempt at friendliness this morning and dared to say hello to him.

Or maybe it's the prospect of another furlough week and a salary freeze that has stagnated my enthusiasm to work harder. Or I could just be paralyzed with the length of the list that continues to grow with story ideas.

But this morning's favorite theory is Spring Fever. I want to be outside. I want to be sipping iced tea and reading a book at the corner of Bardstown Road and Eastern Parkway, occasionally looking up to watch the people go by. I want to be walking through the park, looking the budding redbud trees.

I want to be outside so much that I find myself wishing for the scanner to inform me of a good "working fire" or a call out to a crime scene. That's a little sick. I know but my need for an adrenaline rush and a dose of sunshine is getting out of control.

I'm trying to find my center again. I'm trying to get myself back in the game. And I keep reminding myself that it's not about whatever corporate bs is going on in the newsroom at any given time. I don't have to worry about whether or not co-workers are getting preferential treatment on the vacation schedule. I have to let that stuff go.

I need to find my joy in places I don't normally look. I need to be happy with the compliments I get from unlikely sources. I need to revel in meeting the new people who are opening my eyes to new and exciting possibilities.

I had a good one of these moments this week as I watched two beautiful young Burundi girls make their way through security at the airport, bound for Australia where they will be reunited with their older sister. When I met these girls last October, they were quiet, shocked girls who had just lost their mother -- a victim of a hit and run driver.

It wasn't entirely clear what would happen to these newly orphaned refugees. Apparently my story had an impact and many people came forward to help them with donations and offers of support. Eventually the system worked and they got permission to go to Australia to live with one of their only living relatives.

People kept thanking me for the story I had written before. Telling me it made a difference. I think I'd forgotten that was possible. It was nice to be reminded that it is.

I'm hoping this lesson from these two young girls will help me find some focus and enthusiasm for what I do again. I can't stop thinking about them and how they touched my life.

Still, the sunshine looks so inviting ....