It’s around this time every year I start dreaming of moving anywhere it’s comfortable to be outside year round. (To me, comfortable = being in sandals with no chill in the air.)
The fun of the holidays is over and spring seems so far away.
We’re less social because it’s just not as fun to have people over inside as it is to sit on the porch around the fire pit.
I can feel extra weight creeping on because I can only get motivated to work out at the gym, and I hate the gym.
In the summer I gleefully find any excuse to take a walk and ride my bike for most errands.
Fighting boredom by drinking too much whiskey and watching too much bad tv. (Liquor makes the shows oh so much funnier.)
Sick of wrestling with baby girl to get on all the winter clothes.
Sick of wearing my own winter clothes.
Looking with envy at every house with an enclosed front porch area (many around here) and hating our complete lack of entry way with boots piled in the hallway and a constant mess of sand that Jane loves to rub around with her hands and pick up tiny pieces to put in her mouth.
I hate sweeping, it makes my back hurt.
Just having a bleh winter night, I’m sure it’ll seem better soon.