Weather Musings

Cold weather recently blew in over my neck of the woods, and upon its arrival my metabolism and my motivation immediately shut down.

I like cold weather, mostly because I like wearing coats, but it makes me lazy. For instance, today I killed several hours by playing video games and finishing up a book instead of cleaning the apartment as I had planned.

And yes, I’m totally blaming the weather for that.

Every year I wish we received more snow here in Texas, but then I watch the news and I’m glad we don’t.

I have a particular story I remind myself of when I long for snowy weather:

Several years ago while working sales for a computer company I made a business trip to Tulsa, Oklahoma. When I left Texas the temperature was around seventy degrees, and like the non-foresight-possessing dummy I am, I dressed as if the weather in Oklahoma would be similar.

When we crossed the Red River at the border I knew I had made a very chilly mistake. Snow lined the roadsides, and my sandal-clad feet began shaking in spite of the heater.

We arrived at our hotel in Tulsa and mounds of snow taller than our van greeted us in the parking lot. I got out of the van and tried in vain to keep the snowy-slush from getting my bare feet wet; I pretty much succeed, until my partner decided to smash a snowball over my head. I’m not sure of the size of that snowball, but the shrapnel soaked my baseball hat, my t-shirt, my cargo shorts, and my sandaled feet.

Friends”¦can’t live with’em, can’t stab them in the eye with a pencil.

I don’t want you to worry that I went that whole weekend unavenged. After I shook all the snow off my beachwear and we made our way into the warm hotel, I told my partner I had forgotten my billfold in the van. He waited for me at the elevator while I went outside and made a snowball so big it looked like a snowman’s decapitated head. He saw me coming down the hall with it and desperately tried to get the elevator doors closed before I threw it. I launched my cannonball-sized snowball and just as the doors were closing the snowball entered the elevator and the last thing I saw was a white explosion comprised of snowy powder and slush, and the last thing I heard was my partner’s frigid sounding scream.

Hmmm. Now that I think of that story again maybe some snow might be a little bit fun.

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