Winter is officially here. Today, in fact. It wasn't here yesterday, but it's here now. Forget what the calendar says. Forget the temperature changes (anything less than 75° F is 'winter' in my book), the seasonal clothing and merchandise changes, the sudden appearance of Static Fur on the kitties. Winter. Is. Here.
It's a tangeable thing, this so-called Winter. It looks like a silver glow on the way into work and a dwindling display of magenta behind mountain silhouettes on the way home. It smells like cold air and applewood smoke. It sounds like brittle leaves swirling on the street corner in a gust of wind.
It feels like freaking dry skin and chapped lips that I somehow start to nibble on and peel away when I'm not paying attention, despite the copious amount of lotion and lip balm I'm now in the habit (yay!) of using year 'round. Stupid winter. GO AWAY!!!
GO AWAY, I TELL YOU!!! You make my skin look OLD, and I'm loosing a fight with ONE snow-white hair (haha) that can't take a hint and reminds me that I'm no longer 'young,' but rather 'middle-aged.' You are not helping, Winter! FFFFF%$*!!
This probably means I should put 'mid-life crisis' on the to-do list for this year . . . maybe go buy some leather pants and get a tattoo to keep a finger-hold on youth while I can . . .
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