Spring. No one will really say it, because we're all afraid the weather gods will hear us and punish our naivety with a snowstorm. But I think, I hope, it just might be here.
Truth: I am not my best self in the winter. I was a bit unhappy with going to and from work in the dark. I was so delusional that, while saving a parking spot for my husband who was just around the corner, I yelled at a lady trying to back into the spot. I flailed my arms like a yeti, trying to appear larger and scare her with my craziness. Who does that? Who does that in Chicago? Our neighborhood is fairly safe, but all bets are off when it snows. This city hardens you, freezes you until you are mean.
So now I am thawing out, and becoming inspired by the littlest of things. I'm whistling as I cook dinner, greeting people and dogs on the street, and pausing to notice the emerging tulip buds. Grocery shopping isn't a chore, it's an opportunity to awaken my olefactory sense. I bought, like, five bunches of cilantro because they smelled good. I smiled during a workout. Who does that? And what was wrong with me before?
I had the winter crazies, and no real way of pulling myself out. I usually get a mild bout of Seasonal Affective Disorder, where I am just a bit grumpy until I get some Vitamin D. Heaven help me if we get an actual Chicago winter this year. Plan: Prepare for the worst. Create a survival kit for next winter, a box full of delusions to trick myself. New Business idea: Box Full O' Summer.
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