Let’s just say that you’re kind of not a winter person. Like so much not a winter person that when it’s winter you go around all grumbly like when the temperature dares to depart the lovely regions of 50 and above and you want to just start beating INanimate objects with a tire iron. I SAID INANIMATE OBJECTS, people. Nobody’s getting beaten with a tire iron around here. There are some objects around the house that are curiously-shaped now, but all family members including those of the canine persuasion are wholly intact and quite healthy. Anyway, like I said this person I know is not a winter person and, in fact, HATES winter and all things related to winter with the fire of a gatrillion suns. If said winter-hating person, when faced with yet another insanely unfair sky pissing more white matter, spent the day doing the following things, would that person need to be seen by a mental health professional?
• Moving forlornly from one window to another slowly in order to give the scene each will display time to NOT show a wintry hell,
• Streaking around the house for a full ten minutes while crying uncontrollably because all the long johns ever created in the history of humankind are inexplicably (come on, crazy woman, you wore them and then forgot to wash them during that glorious warm weather respite and THAT is why they are dirty you mad, mad woman) dirty and unavailable to wrap you in their warm and comforting embrace,
• Staring off into the distance and counting the days until there must be some sort of warm weather stretch that will restore you to normalcy because you have become batshit crazy with these continuing bouts of snow,
• Letting the dog out in the hysterical (not funny hysterical – crazy hysterical) hope of engaging in frolicking, winter fun. Realizing two minutes later that you can’t feel your damn fingers and wishing you could so you could raise one in particular in grandiose fashion to the snow that continues to fall,
• Fixing yourself a cup of coffee to warm up because you think you are cold. It’s warm inside, but you look outside and assume that you are cold. Therefore, coffee. But you aren’t really cold, so you pretty quickly misplace the coffee. You get pissed because it would at least taste good. You fix another and misplace that one, too. You start stomping around the kitchen while fixing another stupid cup of coffee. All I want is a damn cup of coffee. The weather sucks so stupid bad and all I’m asking for is a cup of coffee. Is that too much to ask for? Well? Is it? And you fix that third cup. And you see the two other stupid cups of coffee, still steaming, on the counter as you are getting ready to place your third down next to them. And they seem to mock you, and you promise each of those stupid cups of coffee that you will drink them right down. Right the hell down. So they can just knock it off with their caffeinated smugness. The rest of the day probably wouldn’t have gone off the rails quite as much if you had stopped at the first cup of coffee.