My threshold for caring if complaining about the interminable winter is boring, annoying, cliche, annoying, eye rolly, or old news is at a big fat zero because this is beyond depressing. I'm going to take a wild guess that Mother Nature must've never been cooped up in a fevered cabin with a Julia and a Sebastian because if she had she never ever would've punished us earth dwellers with a little bit of hell frozen way over.
I remember buying some winter clothes for the kids last fall at a thrift store and the clerk chuckled and asked if I was new to St. Louis because the winters were actually "pretty mild" and that I seemed to be preparing for a long, cold one instead.
Well, who's chuckling now, clerky? Exactly.
I have a busy day ahead of me crafting an elaborate and fail-proof campaign to convince Simon that we absolutely must move to the warmest climate known to man approximately one second after residency has come to a blessed close so off I shiver/chatter/shuffle.
(on a brighter note ... just 56 more days until my favorite day of May)