SUN: NOW YOU SEE IT, NOW YOU DON'T

I've decided to build an ark.

I don't have any great desire to save two of every species.  I don't even have any biblical leanings outside of the realm of normalcy.

What I do have is a severe aversion to and complete exhaustion with the weather; to be more exact: RAIN.  Lately I feel more like I live in London or Seattle than I do in New England.  Twice, perhaps three times in the last three weeks, I have been able to see the sun.

I drive to work, and it rains.  I drive home from work, and it rains.  I go to appointments (doctor, dinner, work meetings), and it rains.  I slog groceries from the car to the door, and it rains.  I think happy thoughts, and it rains.  I think sad thoughts, and it rains.

It truly feels like it has been raining for forty days and forty nights straight.  Oh, it hasn't really, but the everyday gray of the sky and the rain nearly every damn day combine to make it truly seem like the last sunny day happened years ago, decades away.

Imagine my utter surprise when I look out of the living room window and see .... the sun.

It's a fleeting glimpse.  It's dusk, and soon it will be dark and I won't be able to see anything, sun or otherwise.  However, for a brief time, about ten minutes' worth, I am able to remember what it used to be like, back in the olden days of about a month ago, when a bright, glowing object in the sky actually shone from above and cast shadows and gave light and created heat and made the world a happy place.

Fear not, though.  It's already raining again.

FILM AT ELEVEN FOR THOSE WHO NEED A GOOD LAUGH

I don't like to complain (who the hell am I kidding -- that's all I do) but this weather kind of sucks.  I break out the winter coat, the gloves, the fleece vest, the down vest, and the car auto-starter this week, all in the name of November.

The wind howls, the snow blows (albeit briefly), and the temperature plummets to 18 degrees with a wind chill of about zero (Fahrenheit, not Celsius).  At one point I realize that my car is parked near the back of the lot, and I know I will need to auto-start it in the morning.  It has been drizzling, but, now that the wind is whipping at about forty miles per hour, the temperature resembles the Arctic Circle mid-winter.  I go to move my car and discover ...

I have been iced out.

In my old car, I could open the back hatch, climb through, and be in my driver's seat in no time.  This car, though, is a sedan.  If the back doors are iced shut as well, I'm basically screwed unless I can get the trunk open, clean it out, push down the half-seat, and manage to squeeze my fat ass through the small crevice into the back seat.  Thankfully, the back door opens, and I only have to crab-crawl my way over the console, literally pulling my leg from behind using both arms and wedging my ass-cheeks into the steering wheel.

Which brings me to my major complaint: If I let my car warm up for more than five minutes, I risk being fined anywhere from $100 to $500.  Kids, if I cannot even get into my own car after a mere drizzle-freeze, what am I going to do when the real shit-storm hits December through March?  What if I am at five minutes and three seconds?  Am I now in the fine zone?  And if it only takes me three minutes to get into my car on a Monday, can I buy back those 120 seconds to apply them to another day during the week, say, Thursday morning?

I'm trying here, folks, but Mother Nature and the local police have to work with me.  If I can truly only have five minutes on an iced-over, eighteen-degree, windchill bad enough to cause instantaneous frostbite kind of morning, then either waive the extra fee or plan on watching me wedge my fat ass into the steering wheel via the back seat of the sedan every damn morning.

There.  Complaint over.  Film at eleven for those who need a good laugh.

AUTUMN POEM SIMPLY BECAUSE I CAN

I don't expect really
That Summer will last;
Does Autumn have to
Be gone so fast?
The temperatures

Hit 60's and stick,
Then plummet to 20's
Just as quick.
It's like Autumn
Has passed us by.
Suddenly Winter!
(We don't know why.)
Frozen leaves that
Look so nice,
But leave imprints
Made of ice.
Oh, the weather:
So dark, so dreary,
Casting shadows
On Fall things eerie.
We should be thankful
For all this, though:
We could be buried
Under feet of snow.

KEEPING MY EYES ON THE SUBWAY SANDWICH

It has been a busy few months.

First, I pack to move (after fifteen years).  Then, I have facial surgery to remove more atypical cells (plastic surgeon level procedure).  I am not supposed to lift anything, so I hire movers (Two Men and a Truck -- not even kidding, this company is amazing ... AMAZING).  There are still things to move, though, so I gather friends and family and make a couple of more trips.  Finally, I decide it's still early enough, so I make the last trip, finish cleaning the old place, and wade through boxes at the new place so I can sleep on the futon (the same futon I've been sleeping on at the old place after packing up the bedding).

This weekend I have a fundraiser for Boston Children's Hospital (okay, it's a pub crawl, so really, this one is no sweat), and  there is also my niece's twin babies shower (definitely no sweat and lots of fun), so I finally get a break from the strenuous stuff.

After that it's a week full of meetings, professional development, project presentations and assemblies at school.  Cap that all off with the term ending on Friday, and I believe that I have totally qualified for:

BEING TOO TIRED TO KEEP MY EYELIDS OPEN.

I'm not going to lie: My eyes have glazed over more than once (and probably more than a dozen times) to the point where I am convinced that I may have dozed off for a few seconds during work.  I am hesitant to drive in the dark (which makes my morning commute and evening errands interesting) lest I accidentally not see something or someone.  I almost shat myself two days ago when a giant doe jumped out of the woods and almost ran into my car on route 62 and 6:40 a.m. in the dark and rainy drear.

So, forgive me for what I am about to admit.

I finally broke down last week and attempted to eat McDonald's for the first time in at least a decade (hamburger ended up in the trash, fries ended up in my belly, and Kahlua ended up in the vanilla shake).  Tonight after driving my daughter and her boyfriend to Oak Grove MBTA station, I decide I am hungry.  With no food in the new place yet, this brings up the question of what to eat and from where should it come.

I could go to Pizza Hut inside the nearby Target store.  I could attempt more fast food (Burger King or Wendy's this time).  I could go pay through the nose at Panera and suffer through their ridiculously jacked-up prices for semi-decent food.

I end up at Subway, which is good and bad.  The poor guy making my sub is so patient.  I want turkey and bacon, that much I know.  Oh, heck, throw some Swiss cheese on that bad boy.  Then I have him add lettuce, spinach, tomatoes, cukes, peppers, onions... on and on.  Last but not least, I have the sub topped with light mayo.  I look at the guy behind the counter and start laughing.  "LIGHT mayo, like that's going to make a difference with all that stuff on there."

I don't care!  I earned that sub, damnit.  I had to go four days without eating much because my face was so swollen that I couldn't open my jaw.  I was taking toddler bites and losing half the food back onto my plate.  This sub is fabulous.  FABULOUS.

Now, if you don't mind, my eyes glazed over mid-chew about halfway through, so I'm going to wrap up the remainder and drag my sorry arse to bed.  Maybe next week will be a little slower-paced.  Knowing me, however, I highly doubt it, kids; seriously, I totally and completely doubt it.