Worst...Winter...Ever

Someone wiser than me said that there's no point in talking about the weather because there's nothing you can do to change it. That sounds logical, but I talk about a lot of things I can't change; human nature, the price of gas, death. I don't think that the purpose of discussing something is necessarily because you think that the power of your words can change something (at least not always); sometimes you just need to reflect on the current state of affairs in your life. In doing so, maybe you can better judge how to react to them and gain some perspective on how others react to similar situations, regardless of whether you will ever be able to eliminate or moderate the conditions themselves.

So allow me to whine.

I'M SICK OF SNOW AND COLD!

Sure, it's winter in the Midwest and you almost have to expect a certain amount of both. And we are really, really overdue for a nasty winter. The last decade or more has seen very little snow or subzero temperatures. Maybe, as some have conjectured, this is just "making up" for all the temperate winters we've gotten spoiled by the last while. However you try to justify or explain it, this winter has been an awful one.

November, which often is a harbinger of the winter weather to come, actually was quite mild. No snow, very few days of lower than normal temperatures. I was cautiously optimistic. But December and January were horrible, with seemingly endless amounts of snow and cold. I don't have ready statistics to regurgitate and am not really interested in looking them up. I know a bad winter when I see one and this one has been bad.

Then last week, the first week of February, we saw a day of record snowfalls, up to 15 inches in this area. It just seems like we finally get dug out of one huge mess of snow and ice when another comes along and buries us all again. The entire process is depressing and frustrating. Add to that fact that the sun itself has remained largely hidden for a couple months and you have a whole section of the country that's just been pummeled into a quiet sense of helplessness.

At least that's how I feel. It's bad enough that I'm behind on just about every conceivable aspect of my life; cleaning, finances, work, education, social life and "me" time, now I have to contend with the only daily onslaught of frigid temperatures and godawful amounts of snow. It's like the fighter who keeps getting up off of the mat and each time is smashed right back down again. Your resolve is weakened at a certain point and you just want to hole up and give up and let the world go by on its mad path.

I've had a flat tire on the way to work on the coldest day of the year, I've gotten buried in snow by the city plows (well, not me exactly, my parked car, as I don't have a garage or driveway), I've had to shovel and break off off of my sidewalk and car umpteen times, I've dumped salt and used my scraper and worn enough layers of clothing to make a medieval queen jealous. And still it comes, every nervous glance at the weather.com website providing predictions of future misery, every conversation with friends and/or co-workers including some morbid news of new ghastly amounts of snow.

I never liked the warmer weather much, and I still don't. But this year at least I'm ready for it; bring on the grass and the attendant lawn mower issues, bring on the ants and the kids throwing firecrackers and the humidity and the tornado warnings. I've had it. I've officially reached (and surpassed) my tolerance level for this grade of winter. I don't want to see a shovel or a pair of gloves or thermal underwear or my own breath again for a VERY long time.

Thank God for the my friends, and the internet and my cats and anything and anyone else who provides some sort of relief from this newly opened "Cask of Ancient Winters". As with every other challenge life so graciously provides us, emotional support and vicarious escape can work wonders.

I suppose the original theory I discussed is true; talking about it doesn't change anything, but it does help to vent occasionally. I like blog entries that build toward some type of organic and logical conclusion but I'm afraid this one affords us none besides a hearty "hang in there, baby, Friday's comin'".

And so it is, both literally and figuratively.

Stay tuned for Part Two of this essay later in the summer, when the humidity is 200 percent and I'm pining for the days of 15 inches of snow and bone chilling cold. The grass is always greener, I guess, unless it's underneath a mound of ice.