#thisweatherdoesn'tmakeanysense

Listen.  My favorite season is winter, and I have my reasons for it.

1) I love Christmas, and winter just so happens to be lucky enough to be associated with it.  It could very well be that if any other season were to be in the midst of Christmas season, I would consider it to be the superior season, but none of the other season has that intense visual splendor that is the first day of snow.  When that first snow hits the ground, you know you’re in the midst of the Christmas season and memories of when you built the huge snowfort the day before Christmas come instantly rushing back.  It’s pretty much one of the best feelings in the world.

2) Above all else, I have a deep pride in being a Minnesotan—and Minnesota tends to be associated with miserable winters.  Good, I say.  It makes us *tougher*, and thus… superior.  Also, shared misery is a great thing.  And being Minnesotan is an exercise in shared misery.  (Or at least when it comes to winter and our sports teams.  Which covers just about everything, really.)

3) Winter tends to be the least favored season by probably an overwhelming majority.  Contrarianism comes by me naturally.  So I tend to gravitate towards those unjustly maligned—and so winter and I make a perfect match.  And so I would argue for the season.  It’s better to be bundled up for the cold than to dress down for the heat.  Winter makes you appreciate the other seasons more.  You have no balls if you can’t survive the winter.  These are things I probably would say… probably things I have said.

So you would think that I would be thrilled that here in Minnesota, winter has been going strong for… I don’t know, 6 months now. 

Funny thing happened.  I grew sick of this winter. 

It wasn’t necessarily the cold.  I survived a winter in an apartment that might have averaged an indoor temp of 40-45 degrees, which is like a badge of honor to me.  I’m surviving this cold in my current apartment—which probably averages out to be 55 or so degrees inside.  Cold is easy to deal with.  It keeps you fresh on your toes.

It’s not the winter driving, which might be my least favorite aspect of the season—although I’m assuming it’s also everyone’s least favorite season.  Yeah, the roads suck, and make everything slower.  But roads and driving and the like are man made constructs—we shouldn’t hate something that naturally occurs because it inconveniences our little dumb transportation system we developed.

The reason I grew sick of winter was all the ice.   Specifically, the ice on the sidewalks.  Even more specifically, the ice on the sidewalks that I happened to walk on.

I don’t really know if this is true and if so the explanation behind it, but it seemed as if this winter produced way more slippery conditions than any other winter I can remember.  Which means that I have fallen on the ice with greater regularity.

In fact, I fell on the ice a lot this year.  To the point where I honestly believe that the occasions I slipped on ice this year far eclipse every other year of my adult life combined.  This is a lot, people.  At least twelve.

I know that everyone happens to slip and fall on the ice—and so it’s not anything really to be ashamed of.  But the act of falling is kind of humiliating nonetheless—you watch other people fall and you don’t necessarily laugh at them or deride them in any sort of way, but you definitely feel relieved that you are not the person being viewed as they unexpectedly hit the ground.  Well, I was that person.  At least twelve times.  Although most likely no one was looking for the large majority of them.  So maybe someone watched me fall twice.  That means at least two people watched me suffer in humiliation.  Although every single fall was humiliating enough.

The worst falls happened on the same day, about a month ago.  I was just leaving work after I believe a particularly exhausting day.  I noticed that the sidewalk was mostly dry and free of ice… but I spotted a small patch of ice just as I was about to step on it.  Oh well, it’s probably not going to be sli—NOPE.  It was slippery.  I fell.  This was probably the eleventh or twelfth time I fell, which again—probably eclipses my record of falls in a single winter by eight or nine.  I wanted to punch all things cute and furry. 

Then I got into my car and drove home.  I got out of the car, and went over to the other side to retrieve some items to carry inside.  As soon as I tried to maneuver the small window between my car door and the curb/mound of snow combo—I fell on my rear.  Right on that curb/mound concoction.  And it HURT.  I can still tell my rear is less than 100% when I try to sit down/get up in a particular way.  Who knows.  I may just never be the same.

After that moment—winter was done for me.  No more snow, no more below freezing temperatures, I wanted to do away with all of it.  Bring on the sunshine, bring on the happiness—all the dumb things people tend to associate with the Spring, just get on with it already.  Anything but this damn winter before I make the Darwin Awards by killing myself via slipping.

Weeks went by and winter wouldn’t go away.  I can only assume it was only lingering because I broke its heart, and was trying to win me back.  It wasn’t working.  The snow started to melt, the temperature slowly began to rise—winter wasn’t exactly letting go, but it was losing hope.

But then something weird happened.  And it started snowing again this week.

And I’m completely on board with winter again.

You know what?  If this damn winter won’t just get up and leave, I might as well just embrace it, you know?  It’s not often that we can wake up to snow in the middle of April.  Sure, it doesn’t really make a whole lot of sense, but nonetheless here winter is, keeping on keeping on.  It’s kind of great, in a maddening and befuddling way.

And you know what else?  My birthday is next month. 

You know what I’ve never had for my birthday?  You know what I’m kind of wanting more than anything else for my birthday, despite the fact that it seems historically impossible to deliver?

YES.  THAT’S RIGHT.