This is what I'm talking about.
February hits and we are just desperate for winter to be over. We suffered through a cold and dark January, we're starting to see the sunlight, we're already making plans as to what we'll do once we finally thaw out.
And BOOM. Blizzard.
It's just not fair that February is actually the coldest month. It's not fair that snow storms hit February with the most prevalence. We can muddle through maybe a month or two of this nonsense, but we're at our limit at February. This becomes our heartbreak hill: that sudden increase in intensity just when we want to quit.
To be perfectly honest, if we weren't currently anchored by simultaneous mortgage/car/tuition (tuition on both sides of this marriage, sheesh) payments, I'd be boarding the first plane to Hawaii or Puerto Rico.
It's just not pretty anymore. I look outside and no longer see a winter wonderland. I look outside and see yet another one of my tai chi classes cancelled. I see another two-hour shovel-fest because we swore up and down that we didn't need a snowblower. I see me trudging out in the snow to feed the chickens (who aren't even laying eggs for us right now because a chicken's cycle essentially stops during the winter).
I fully recognize that life is exactly how you perceive it, but, right now, I don't see how I can perceive it any other way. We have reached the winter of our discontent, which will hopefully be made into glorious summer by a few benevolent shifts of winds.
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