Saturday, November 26, 2011

The Weather Outside is Frightful. Not.



If it weren't for the nagging ache in my stomach and the waves of nausea that go along with volumes of food that have yet to complete the digestive process I'd have sworn it was spring this morning.

Waking up in my own bed after the annual trek to see family out east, I felt slightly disoriented. Outside my window, the trees were bare, the fallen leaves had all been raked or blown away. My car temperature gauge told me it was already in the fifties. The air smelled more like it does in early April than it typically does in late November, filled with the promise of new blooms and warmer days. Just another illusion, but illusions aren't always a bad thing.

The weather may be confusing, but at least some things remain constant. After the brief holiday hiatus, I happily resumed my Starbucks routine this morning. My thick paper cup was reassuringly red in honor of the season, decorated with snowflakes and snowmen and inspiring little messages. My vow to never eat like a glutton again has been proven, reassuringly, to be as illusory as the spring weather, with my resolve being tested at every turn. Cold soggy pizza at work last night was irresistible, giving me that incomparable happy (and slightly naughty) feeling you get when you eat cold pizza for breakfast. In Starbucks, my favorite barista (who had heard from my favorite manicurist that I was back in town) greeted me not only with her usual warm smile but also with a small package of her homemade blintzes, as promised. Real Russian blintzes. There is no room for voids this season; I will never have to wait too long to top off the tank.

No matter how warm it is, this is a time to hunker down, to indulge in comfort food and snuggle up under warm blankets with loved ones and watch sappy old movies. All good. I'm still glowing from a couple of days "snuggled up" (figuratively at least) in the company of my three children, something I get to do less and less as time moves on. And, just a short while ago,I retrieved Manny, the snuggle king, from the dog sitter, and he will be a more than willing participant in my seasonal transformation into a complete couch potato.

Don't get me wrong. It's not that I don't want to continue moving forward, moving into what will hopefully be a new and better phase, filled with possibilities still beyond my imagination. And I certainly don't plan to wait until spring really arrives to get there.

Yep, as soon as people stop throwing pizza and cupcakes and blintzes my way, I'll be good to go.

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