I was up the stairs and prepping myself to bear against the cold for my morning run, dreading the icy sting at 6 am, when.... the icy sting wasn't there. It was 38 degrees. 38 DEGREES! I never thought I would get so excited by anything so ridiculous (though I'm sure I must have, and sort of vaguely remember doing so, when I lived here before...but that's what cold-climate-living-induced Post Traumatic Stress Disorder does: it blots out the past, and rather effectively at that. No need to remember such things as blue toes and 9 months of winter and endlessly scraping windshields and endlessly shoveling off driveways.... ). I joyfully BOUNDED through my run (the most variable striding and non-gingerly-marathon-shuffling in at least 2 weeks...), opened all the windows, walked around outside downtown as much as possible in California-worthy clothes while still getting lots of productive work done at my favorite organic tea spot, as all the warmth and humidity (it actually rained) did absolute double-take wonders for my energy level and attention span...
This confirms it: I do NOT belong here. All the local-yokels were bitching all day about how it was "damp" and "slushy" and "awful" and the cause of their "ruined skiing plans"... Well, this former local-yokel will personally take comfortable temps and breathable humidity levels over freezing herself over anything so inconsiderate as to think of involving snow any day of the year -- and most importantly, even if it was just for one day, it has sure made the prospect of making it through to Christma-Chanu-Kwanza-Ramadani-Solsti-Festivus-ica Break in California a lot more something like doable.
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2 comments:
Does this mean you're coming home to stay? :-)
I hear ya, sister! Amen!
Haha... It's just me, Crystal, and I totally agree with your preaching.
: )
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