Forgetting Winter

The winter here in New England has been brutal. I started a new job in September, and of course had no sick or vacation time accumulated in preparation for the inevitable snow day (hello, this is the land of Nor'easters). I didn't realize (although a sinking place inside of me knew it was coming) that it would snow weekly or sometimes bi-weekly. Oh or for days in a row. In the midst of this, I had this ridiculous push to build up my case load and see a certain number of clients every week. The funny thing is, clients don't come when its a blizzard outside. I think our concept of "mentally ill" is ridiculous: who is more crazy, the person who is wise enough to stay home or the idiot who works during a white out for a company that never closes? It was me who was depressed; every day was gray and dreary, I can count the sunny days because I desperately sucked in every last drop of Vitamin D, huddled in a wrap, with my feet perched on a second heater in my cold office painted a mocking sunny yellow. Bah.

Today was a brilliant blue day, highlighted by the trees popping fresh greens, whites and pinks. My office window was open; I drove in with my sunroof tilted, music blaring, hair blowing, relaxed happiness. There was a sense of relief in the air, everyone was lighter, laughing, smiling, remarking, "Its a beautiful day outside!" The radio DJs even went so far to say, "Spring in New England is why we suffer through the six months of winter."

Ah ha! Well, to you Winter, I say: I will not forget you. Oh, yes, I may have conquered you and your icy mounds of thundersnow with my wickedly expensive snow tires and superior traction control. I fought against your frigid temperature, with gloves mailed to me from a far warmer climate (and they were worn with a lovely sense of irony) and my dear, life saving heated seats. I even made due with my coat for one more year, and dutifully carried around my snow boots. I think your most devious move has been your darkness. I thought I would barely crawl out of the shortness of your days - eating french fries once a week was the only thing that saved me. I found myself desperate for even the tepid heat of the sun. I had to restraint myself from bringing home boxes, packing my belongings and running away. I begged my husband to move - anywhere - and drew up pie charts and lists proving that we had to move. You almost had me Winter.

But today's New England, I could stay for this. Until it becomes clear that Summer is pathetically short, and Fall settles again. I am not a fool for the brilliant foliage - I know what is coming. You and me, Winter, we are not friends. You challenge me, deplete me, and make me fat and lazy. I can't stand you and your icy wet coldness. I will not forget.