If you know me in real life, (or follow me on Facebook, which at this point is the same thing, let's be honest) then you know that the past three weeks in Boston have been...oh, shall we say a tad difficult?
I am unapologetic about my disdain for snow. I was giddy at our blessedly snow free winter...as of three weeks ago. Three weeks ago it was cold, brutally so at time, but hey! it's winter!, but there was no snow and ice on the ground. And then? Then we had a pretty little snowfall, and then all hell broke loose. We've had 90+ (that's ninety plus! help!) inches of snow in three weeks.
I know that I am lucky. I know I have it easier than most. I also know that I am girl from the caribbean. There's no fighting it. I prefer sand and sun to smoky fire and ice. I know winter is cozy and everything, but you guys can keep it. I cry uncle.
The pilgrim forebears have been through this before. The Great Snow of 1717 was immortalized by Cotton Mather and referenced by Thoureau. The Great Snow of 2015 will be immortalized by Instagram and your whiny Facebook friend -- me.
But I'm trying! I promise! I'm seeking comfort in favorite quotes.
The only problem is that If you look deep into my eyes and straight into my soul you'll find a palm tree and a caipirinha. (True story.) At this point, my internal monologue is all Samuel Beckett.
God help us all.