It’s Possible I’ve Been Affected by the Cold

I hate to say anything – there are repercussions, after all, for Failure to Keep a Stiff Upper Lip. What with it so early in the season, one likes to pace these things, but I’m afraid there’s no getting around it.

Ladies and gentlemen, I have tired of winter.

We kid ourselves, we temperate-zone living types. But if you left Minnesota, you’d miss the change in seasons! We’re somehow better than others because we suffer… Yes, I will return to those rationalizations soon, don’t you worry; but in the meantime, won’t someone think of the children?

And by “children”, of course, I mean me.

It’s tiring, all this “cold”. One finds oneself starved for green, for moist nasal passages, for inappropriately dressed teenagers. Summer is half a world away, and every building you leave implies a vengeful Mother Nature, every open door is an invitation to your potential demise and a local headline.

Inappropriately Dressed Woman Found Dead. Local Authorities Mock Her Stupidity.

It’s true. You can still find people here in tennis shoes, in “hoodies”. My advice to you? Do not go near those people. They are delusional, possibly dangerous, and should be shunned, or, at the very least, presented with a thin-lipped show of disapproval.

But oh, how I want to step outside with nothing on but my undies, pants, shirt, socks, shoes, and possibly a jaunty little cap! I want to run down the center of an ice-free street! I want to hear the birds again, the sound of car stereos, the increasingly bizarre mating rituals of the young and uninhibited!

I want to live!

Alas, it’s mid-January. The Mississippi River has frozen over, my porch serves admirably as a walk-in cooler, and the cats double as hot water bottles. The ground is white, the sky is white, and stories of snow-blindness and those slit-eyed glasses the Inuit made out of whale bone come to mind.

And there’s two and-a-half months left.

Shhhhh. Did you hear that? Listen! Is that ruddy-faced skier from Accounting near the copier again? Do you think he heard me? Public displays of winter intolerance are frowned upon, and I’ve not been properly rosy-cheeked this month, nor have I said “uff da” yet this year.

I didn’t mean any of it, okay? It – it – you won’t say anything, will you? I like winter! I like the cold!

It keeps the riff-raff out!

Please. I have a reputation to uphold.