I feel like I need to write this post, partly because I don’t want to suffer in silence, but mostly because I don’t remember feeling this way last year and I want something to look back on a year from now and either feel justified in my convictions, or corrected.
I was having a conversation this weekend with my family and I am convinced that this winter feels like the longest I’ve been through that I can remember.
I don’t recall ever feeling this defeated at the sight of snow. I am crushed by these constant low temperatures, and I want to stay in my pajamas all day. I don’t however, but I don’t see an end in sight.
Even the plus temperatures that taunt me on the forecast just don’t seem real anymore. I just don’t believe it.
I long to step out on to the amazing deck my husband built last summer. I want to play in the dirt of my garden and pull weeds. I can’t wait to smell that distinct barbecue smell of my husband grilling, and I need to step outside into the great outdoors where my kids have a big yard to help them use up their energies.
We all feel this way in our house. Even our cats are becoming unbearable. Four days and counting until the promise of a change in weather.
Hold on just a little longer.