It may be time for me to put this blog out of its misery. I was going to use the title "Terminal Grumpiness" for this post. But you know how your computer sometimes remembers phrases you've typed into text boxes and pulls them up for you? Yeah, I've already HAD a blog entry entitled "Terminal Grumpiness." It was only in August, so it's not like I even have the excuse of it being way back in 2008, when I first started my blog. The August grumpiness was due to the seemingly never-ending renovations that were going on in our house. That seems so long ago now.
Today's grumpiness is all about the weather, so if you want to stop reading here, you're entitled.
It's been well documented in this blog that I am not a fan of cold weather. I don't like anything below 60 degrees, but I will suffer in relative silence in temperatures between 40 and 50 degrees. Below 40, though, I come out with guns a-blazing.
It isn't that I don't know how to dress for cold weather. I DO. I just don't like to. Today, when temperatures were supposed to remain in the 30's all day here in the BALMY FREAKIN' SOUTH, I knew that I needed to wear layers. I wore a tank top, a mock turtleneck, a matching crocheted scarf, my heaviest slacks, and I even wore my equestrian-style boots that I've had now for 12 years. I dug my heavy coat out of the closet, and in the pocket I found a napkin from an event at the country club that Hubby and I attended last January. That's how often I wear that coat. I even wore my gloves.
So it's not about not being prepared for the cold temperatures. It's that I. JUST. DON'T. LIKE. THEM.
It doesn't help that no one around here knows how to drive in the snow and ice. But just let the ground get covered solid with one or the other, or a mix of both, and EVERYONE wants to get out and drive in it. Snow isn't in our forecast for this week, and it's a good thing. I would probably be homicidal.
We usually have a cold snap like this, and I can almost guarantee that before the month of December is over, we will have at least one, perhaps two or three, days where temperatures are in the 70's. Those are my kinds of temps. I got my hopes all up a while ago when the weather came on. The weather guy (from the waist up only, you understand) was talking about how cold it is, and then he said the words I thought I was waiting to hear, "But wait until you see what next week has in store."
He took great delight in telling me that compared to next week, this week will seem like Spring Break.
I hate him. I hate him much.
I really, really apologize to those of you who live in places where snow and cold are a mainstay for six months out of the year. Like my (favorite) cousin, who grew up in South Alabama and lives now in Green Bay. She said something once about her children being thrilled when they got to that one day in August when they could go barefoot. I KNOW I don't have it as hard as you do. I KNOW I'm whining about cold when I really have no idea.
That doesn't make me any less grumpy.