With the onset of winter I begin to hibernate. It happens every year when the temps drop, frosts then snow cover the ground and the winds howl incessantly.
Any outside chore that can be avoided is. Short of calling 911 for an ambulance ride I'm staying put. I haven't stepped outside in three days. Nor have I showered or got dressed. Today may be the day I scrub off but I'd rather crawl back in bed and say to heck with the world.
I absolutely hate this time of year.
At night I dream of warmth, sunshine and never wearing boots, gloves or socks. During the day I think of sandy beaches, grilling, sunglasses and shorts and T-shirts.
Last night I pleaded with Sweetie: "Please, let's just hop in the car and drive to Florida."
"Not until March," he said.
I felt like sticking out my tongue and telling him he's a meanie.
Juvenile behavior for sure but I hate the onset of winter more every year. If it weren't for my elderly friend's needs and our writing group and art exhibits I'd hibernate for six months.
We certainly have enough food & supplies to last an enforced quarantine. As long as the electricity is on our online connections, TV and phone would connect us to the outside world. Add to these my puzzle collection, sewing, art supplies, books, cooking, household chores and our pets and I'd keep myself occupied.
Trouble is, right now I want none of it - except a cup of coffee and a magic carpet ride to a warmer climate. Oh well.
Coffee cup's almost empty and I'm getting a chill so back to bed I go.