Snowbound

I am officially sick of snow.

I awoke this morning to find at least another three inches of the white stuff covering my deck and my yard. Sally didn't even want to go outside -- and she usually romps in the snow like a polar bear, only not as deadly. As I pushed her out the door this morning she looked at me with utter disdain. She walked four steps, peed on the deck and came back in. I think it was just to spite me.

Winter Freakin' Wonderland

Now, just like everyone else I was excited to see the first flakes fall at the start of winter. I enjoyed snuggling on the sofa as the storm went on outside. I went sledding, I even made a half-assed attempt at building a snowman, but enough is enough. Its just so white and cold and so wet and drippy. All of my winter clothes have lost their appeal. I have been reduced to wearing a black t-shirt and jeans every day because everything else just smacks of effort that I am not willing to make. My spring clothes hang their and mock me in their cute, colorful funitude (yeah, its a word, got a problem with that?). My sandals sit at the bottom of my closet looking forlorn as morning after morning I once again slip into my plain, brown closed toed shoes.

I am tired of wearing a coat. I am tired of digging my car out of a snow coma every morning. I am so tired of my socks being wet -- even inside shoes. And I am tired of covering the snow in the news. If people don't know how to handle it by now they should move.

Now, if you'll excuse me I am taking my hair dryer outside to clear a patch of grass for Sally.