Stop me if I’ve already told you this– I HATE winter, and in particular ABHOR snow. Really, you never picked that up before? I must be more subtle than I thought. Well, winter is not my idea of fun. And this winter, this is the winter of my discontent (and I’m pretty sure I’m not alone).  I no longer ski, no longer skate, no longer have little kids, with whom I sled. After the first layer of white, which agreed, makes everything look fresh and new, creates lovely branch art, and reminds me of an idylllic New England scene from my childhood, I am good, cooked, finished with the season I used to call winter, but now just call EVIL.

But I’m not calling the shots here, because if I were, we’d have four seasons of sunshine. Nope, this is Mama Nature’s call. And she is all about white this season. And cold. She is currently into frigid, frigid, cold. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that lady was mad about something.

Anyway, the natives are restless over here. My daughter is bored out of her mind, and just wants her mid-terms to be over (they’ve been postponed twice, now. At this rate, they’re going to be finals). And I can barely walk the dog, since the snow is way higher than he is. We got more than another foot yesterday, which topped off the two feet we had. And yup, I just read we’re getting another three inches tomorrow.

I’m in a mood.

I’ve tried to embrace it, be one with it, meditate my way through it, get my gratitude on, but I feel like a prisoner, who wants to make a break. I have made sauce. I have made chicken soup. I cleaned out a closet. I even shoveled (which I am not supposed to be doing because of my back, but that’s how bored I was). But now, I just want to make a run for it. It’s like the punchline to the old Jewish American Princess joke that asks “What’s a Jewish American Princess’s favorite whine? Take me to Miami.” Yup. That’s how I feel. In fact, take me anyplace where it’s not hard to get out of your fucking house.

Today, I will re-boot, and take a big hot bath in gratitude. But first, I will complain. And be mad. And see how much real estate is in California.