It’s gray and disgusting outside my window. Widespread rain is pushing through my area. And this is why whenever one of my fellow Syracuse residents says something about how they’re glad it hasn’t snowed yet, I want to slap them. (That, and they ought to know if we don’t get it now, we’ll get it in March. Which would you rather have, honestly?)
Rain in December is like a sneeze where you get all the intensely uncomfortable buildup but the sneeze goes away at the last second.
We’re officially less than three weeks from Christmas, and the season is flying by at light speed. I only just got the tree up Sunday, because Thanksgiving weekend was too complicated. Work-wise I’m not in quite the spot I wanted to be. And heck, because I’m still finishing up my book from NaNoWriMo, my brain is still partly in November mode.
What I need to get into the spirit is some good snow. Lots of it. I even bought new boots for the first time in many years. It’s time to bring on the lake effect snowstorms, the giant puffy flakes, the SUVs by the side of the road because stupid people bought too much car for their hat sizes. And yet it’s above freezing all this week.
At nighttime it’s better. Last night I watched cooking videos and got into Bad Idea Mode. I started planning all the yummy stuff I want to make over the break, and even before if I can manage it. I had a craving for waffles last night that will remain unfulfilled for now because we’re out of milk and eggs, and when my wife asked yesterday if I needed anything at Wegmans I foolishly said no. (Why not go out myself for it? Because I am not going out in this ick.)
I hate it when nature and I are at an impasse. A nice snowy December doesn’t seem a lot to ask, especially when the alternative is spring holding off till July.