I have become a miserable, cranky human being. You would think that it would be infertility that would do it to me. But, no. It’s not.
I know – so banal, so trite, so stating-the-obvious to write and gripe about winter. We all know. It’s cold. It snows. It’s winter. No kidding.
But I’m not kidding. Winter has made me a miserable human being. I seriously could complain about it all day long. And I would, if I thought people wouldn’t stop hanging out with me. I don’t get tired of listening to myself complain at all. Not about winter.
Feel free to tune out, but I am going to indulge myself here and complain about everything I hate about winter. Just because it is the only thing that makes me happy in winter (besides snow days).
First, I’m tired of being cold 100% of the time. And I mean, 100% of the time. I’m tired of feeling cold in my house. Of having to wear 100 layers to bed because it’s so cold. (Can you say ‘unsexy’???) I’m tired of feeling cold in my classroom. When I walk in the halls. I am always. always. cold. If I were ever sentenced to hell, I am convinced that, for me, it would be cold, not hot. My own personal, wintery hell.
I am tired of how my body feels. I’m tired of the tip of my nose feeling like an iceberg and looking like fictional, red-nosed claymation. I’m tired of my nose always running, and I’m tired of the back of my hand (or gloves or edge of my sleeves) always having snot on it because I’m constantly wiping it.
I’m tired of my skin being dry and itchy because of the scalding hot showers I take twice a day to warm up. I’m tired of the skin on my fingers cracking and getting caught on every sweater, pair of stockings, tights and any unsuspecting piece of fabric unfortunate enough to cross its path. I’m tired of how pale and pasty my face looks. I’m tired of my shoulders being permanently stuck in an upright position, swallowing up my neck.
I’m tired of wearing the same three sweaters because those are the only ones that are close to being thick enough for my cold environment. I’m tired of the static cling, the static electricity, and my hair standing on end and shocking me every time I take off a hat or a scarf.
I’m tired of being forced to hibernate. I’m tired of being too cold to leave the house – to go to the gym, to go to the store, to go to the end of the driveway to get the mail. I’m tired of cabin fever. I’m tired of bickering with my husband over which of us will be the unlucky one to leave the house and pick up the Chinese food. I’m tired of having to run in and out of my house to start my car when I am forced to leave my house. I’m tired of daily almost breaking my ankle trying to cross my ice-chunk-covered driveway.
I literally feel like punching someone when I walk out of my house and feel that icy blast hit my face.
I’m tired of shoveling. I’m tired of my car looking like white trash because of all salt. I’m tired of needing to be ready 15 minutes earlier every day just to deal with scraping off the ice and snow. I’m tired of all the gas we are wasting by having to start our cars so early. I’m tired of getting stuck at work when the snow starts and having to drive home white-knuckled. I’m tired of trying to dodge
potholes ditches in the road and then feeling like my car is going to crack in half because I missed.
I’m tired of seeing dirty-white mountains of snow walling me in, making me wonder where the heck am I?
I’m tired of seeing things like this on a daily basis:
Sure, it can be beautiful, serene. magical…no two snowflakes are alike and all that. I know I should suck it up and find a way to get out there and enjoy it…build a snowman, make a snow-angel, drink in the wonder of the frosty moonlight glistening off the sparkling white whimsy that blankets us in…
Yeah, no. Not happening.