If I Was a Baby, I'd be Crying . . .

Those who know me are aware of my obsession with weather, specifically sunny weather. I often wonder how I have remained living in the northwest - well known for its propensity to gray skies and rainy, cool weather. My brown skin was made for warmer climates!

Imagine how I’m feeling this spring where the average temperature has been 55 degrees with gray skies and never-ending rain. I hate it when the weather reporters act all cheery when it looks like today – why aren’t they outraged like I am? I especially feel cranky when they promise nice weather and it ends up raining.

The bottom of my pants are wet as is my coat from the constant, unending rain they fell on me as I trekked up the hill from the train. On the ride in, I didn’t even look out the window at the normally beautiful Puget Sound because it was as gray as the sky and I didn’t want any more non color in my life.

Yes, I am a cranky, cranky baby about the weather. I am a ball of bitterness because I want to be warm and stop having to wear my winter clothing. I want at the very minimum 65 degrees and some – just asking for some – blue sky. That isn’t too much is it?

I temporarily squelched my inner wailing infant by stopping at Starbucks and treating myself to a mocha (non-fat, no whip) and a turkey-bacon breakfast sandwich. Somehow eating oatmeal would have added to my general malaise.