Well, it's been a while since I've posted.

I like temperatures a lot hotter than many people (at least than the rest of my family... much to my chagrin). In recent weeks Maryland weather has decided it is finished with winter, not even allowing for the traditional post-breakup recovery period before leaping into a rebound relationship with summer. This left the state's disgruntled residents with hands on hips, grumbling curses at the skies. Well, spring did come, and made my family very happy. High 50s and breezy with a sunny, cloudless sky, my Dad was so pleased he opened all the doors to the house.

This was not as pleasing to me. For three days by this point I had been promised summer. I had bided my time for long, cold months, and at last had been rewarded fairly with 80 degree weather. Tank tops and shorts were exhumed from dark crevices of the closet... only to be rendered utterly laughable (in my estimation) on the second Saturday of April.

"Oh, but it's nice outside!" my mother tried to reassure me as I proffered a goose-bump laden arm, the sad product of hours in our barn. But like the weather, she had raised my hopes falsely. I opened the door only to be blasted by beautiful skies, a radiant sun, birds chirping.... and a sharp breeze intent on being the center of attention. If it had been possible, my goose-bumps would have become worse.

At this point fully annoyed with the weather for tricking me into wearing a short-sleeved shirt, I scurry up to the house and make a beeline for my room. There I grab the first sweater to come to hand, but find myself lingering in my room since I keep it decidedly warmer than the rest of the house. Eventually I do work my way back downstairs, where I attempt to steal warmth from the cat fast asleep on the sofa. He does not take kindly to this, awakening, standing with a stretch, and moving deliberately to the sofa opposite. I curl up on the warm spot where he'd been.

And this sad behavior was elicited by the false promise of warmth. Had this been a continuation of the cold we'd been having, it would have seemed warm since I would have been adequately prepared with winter clothing, which would have seemed excessive, but still reasonably allowed. Instead, having had spring for a few days just before, I felt odd fantasizing about the cozy warmth of my winter coat. Yet there it was: I wanted it. Guilty pleasures still be pleasures.