I don't want to talk about it

Therapy is upcoming, in a day or two. Part of me wants to talk furiously of all my trials, tribulations and accomplishments.

The other part of me just wants to sit silently, saying nary a word. 

I feel all talked out. I've used my allotted number of words last week, don't want to say no more.

 I slept 12 hours last night. It doesn't happen to often, family obligations and all. Woke up still tired. The antics and interactions, the insights and the fury of the week typically catch up with me on the weekend. I want nothing but a quiet stupor in which to recover.

 The snow was pretty last night, in the moonlight, gently falling making soft sounds. Today, the winter feels oppressive, stifling, stuck in the house again, roads impassable, temperatures daunting.

 Spring and sunshine cannot come soon enough.