See Sarah...

When you ask people what their idea of hell on earth is, answers vary. Maybe it’s watching a football game (hate it!).  If you’re a dude, it could be awkwardly standing alone in Victoria’s Secret as your girlfriend tries on unmentionables (P.S.—I always feel sorry for you guys when I see you.  Shame on your girlfriends for making you endure that).  My own personal hell? Enduring this godforsaken weather for the past month. 

Let me preface this rant by assuring you that I’m not trying to sound whiny or out of touch.  Although, let’s face it, anytime someone starts complaining about the weather like they’re being assaulted, it’s only reasonable to think, “Jesus, what a f****** brat.” So I’ll try not to do that.

First of all, I know I have it pretty good. Even considering the near record-setting temperatures and snow fall we’ve had this winter, things are going well for me. I’m not starving in a North Korean prison or being human trafficked.  I’m just a tad irritated. But, I don’t know, for some reason, I feel this bitter resentment coming on the moment I walk out my front door and feel the sharp—dare I say bitchy?—cold of winter slice right through my layers of sweater, jacket, coat, jeans, sweatpants, scarf and snow boots. Then there’s the joy of warming up your car, hearing that low-moaning wheeze of an engine that would rather die than attempt to start when the wind chill is almost -15.  Plus all the fabulous scraping and shoveling, and feeling your fingers and toes quickly numb each minute spent outside…god, it’s depressing. 

Of course, I know some places have it way worse.  Omaha is actually getting a bit of a reprieve right now.  This week so far it has climbed to a surprisingly comfortable 20 degrees (it’s amazing how warm you feel when you’ve been out in what feels like subzero temps).  And my pal Katie has been holding her own in North Dakota for an impressive three years.  I’ve heard/read her stories about those winters, and I have no problem admitting that I wouldn’t last a month there.  I’d probably just give up after digging my car out of a snow drift for the zillionth time, assume the fetal position and find comfort in the fact that after I froze to death, at least I wouldn’t have to deal with all that snow anymore.  Yeah, I’m kind of a cry baby like that. 

My point is, this weather blows.  Big time.  We’re supposed to get another snow storm in a couple weeks and one more in February.  Good god.  I guess all I’m trying to do is relieve some frustration by blogging about it.  Okay, so maybe my goal of not sounding so whiny didn’t work out.  But it was warmer in Moscow last week than Omaha.  I’m not kidding.  I’ll blame my bad attitude on that.