The Winter Of My Discontent

Have I ever told you how much I hate winter?

Oh, it has a few charms, like the rare snowfall that sticks around for a day or two and then melts. This year, however, we’re having a long, cold, snowy, wet winter and the perpetually grey skies over our Pacific Northwest home make it hard for my HappyLight to keep up. I want sun. I want warmth. I want it to be 80+ freaking degrees every day. And sometimes I wonder why on earth Will and I moved up here from sunny Southern California.

Then I remember that we were poor as church-mice and had no opportunities to better our lot in life there, so we packed up everything we owned (which fit into an 11-foot U-Haul truck) and moved to a place we’d never been to live among people we’d never met. I look back at that time, now half a lifetime ago, and wonder how we’d had the guts to do it. Neither of us had much of a sense of adventure, but this was one we never regretted…except for missing the sunshine we’d taken for granted.

This time of year is the worst. I was over winter two months ago, and of course spring is usually an extension of it except for warmer temperatures and budding leaves on the trees. I keep watching for clues that portend a change in seasons, but of course it’s only late February and as cold as it’s been this year, I don’t expect to see them for weeks yet.

Obviously, this doesn’t do my mood a bit of good. I’m not actually depressed as of this moment—the artificial light is helpful—but I wake up every morning wishing it were summer and being resentful that it isn’t. I curse the rain and the cloudy skies, and picture myself working in the garden in front of the house. I think ahead to our family’s next trip, and fantasize about sunning myself on a beautiful Caribbean beach and frolicking in 80-degree temps on Christmas Day at Disney World. I peruse my Woman Within catalogs and dream of wearing shorts and T-shirts instead of sweats and thermals.

Speaking of sweats and thermals, I am also sick of being cold. Despite my abundance of adipose tissue, I’m always cold no matter what I wear, and it’s expensive to keep me warm—my entire rent check went toward paying the electric bill. I get chilled in October and don’t thaw out until June. There doesn’t seem to be anything to be done about it; I’ve had my thyroid checked and it’s fine, so all I can do is wear layers and use my electric blanket, which Will got me a year ago and is one of the best gifts I’ve ever received.

So I’m looking forward to better days, because winter WILL end and life will begin again. The leaves will return to the trees, flowers will bloom, and birds will sing once more. I can’t wait. How about you?