It’s been a snowy winter. A cold one, too. There, I wrote it. But unlike so very, very, very, very, very many other people, that’s the first time. I have not left my house, nor visited Facebook, without multiple people mentioning the weather – how overwhelming the amount of snow is, how cold the…cold is. How dreary the days are. How long the school year is going to be. How interminable the winter has become.
I don’t know why I just can’t get on the griping bandwagon. It’s too crowded, I think, and a monotonous ride. I’m less tired of winter than I am of the comments about winter. It just is what it is. Meh. I’m indifferent anymore.
The weather gives us something to talk about, sure. I, for one, wish I were more clever than to use the weather as a ‘go to’ topic. That’s why I’m lately refusing to discuss it. Previously, I’ve done my fair share of grumbling. For example, I don’t like it when the air hurts my teeth. I don’t like the way cold jeans feel against my knees. I don’t like bursts of arctic air in my eyeballs. Though there’s no app for that, I’ve figured out ways to deal with all three of those things. We’re ingenious, we New Englanders.
You know I’m right when I say it won’t be long — around four months, maybe four and a half, when people are complaining about the sun, the heat and how…hot that heat is.
First one to mention it to me gets a wet fingertip in the ear, a noogie and a wedgie thrown in for good measure.