Thursday, February 02, 2012

Seasonal Disappointment Disorder

I'm a victim of an affliction I like to call Seasonal Disappointment  Disorder.

This is a fancy-sounding way of saying I don't like the weather. One simple question: where's winter?

People with Seasonal Disappointment Disorder, you see, like seasons, and, as creatures of habit, get all discombobulated when the seasons don't flow smoothly by. We like predictability. We like consistency.

We assume, if we buy a nice, red parka with fake fur around the neck and hood, we will actually be able to wear that garment during the winter -- even if we do look like Kenny from South Park when the hood is pulled up. OK, I'm exaggerating (but not about the resemblance to Kenny). I have actually worn the parka two or three times this winter. But, most days, my poor old green quilted jacket is getting a run for its money.

So, where's winter? Yesterday it was 61 degrees here in the Delaware valley. On our way to the commuter train, I and my fellow travelers shed layer after layer of winter clothing, like snakes shedding their skins. Good thing we didn't leave them behind on the ground, like so much litter.

Don't get me wrong -- I do like the teensy weeny heating bills this winter. But I also like enough snow and cold to remind me that winter has arrived, and to allow me to snuggle in front of the fire with my dogs, sipping a cup of tea. On my porch at home is a woodpile, which looks almost exactly the same as it did in October, when my son stacked the wood for me. I'm sorry -- I feel silly building a roaring fire and then opening several windows because of the heat.

I'm getting a little old to blame it on hot flashes.

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