And damp. Bleak. Lethargic.
I refuse to put my winter coat back on.
I'm starting to panic that Spring, real 65 degrees, sunny, trees in bloom, open patios, sundress wearing, frolicking Spring will never come.
Which in turn, means that Summer, true 85 degree, air conditioner units, bathing suits, days at the lake, not watching TV for weeks at at time, sandals and sunglasses, the sensation of fewer responsibilities and flings of Summer will never EVER arrive.
Chicagoans are tough. We grin and bear this shit weather with patience and cynicism. We're all just trying to survive at this point.
1 comment:
When I moved to Boston, one of the first things they told me is that there are two seasons there, Winter and August. Right after that I was informed of the "Shiny Bumper Rule" for driving in roundabouts: "Ye with the shiniest bumper must yield to the less shiny, lest ye fancy pants bumper be scratched by those with a less-than-shining (HA) example, whom just plain do not care." I'm just saying, they tell you a lot of weird things. Right after that I learned the meaning of their pet saying, "They looked at me as if I had 5 heads!"
Post a Comment