Thirteen degrees.
Windchill: four below.
That's the MSP International Airport official temperature at this moment as I type another blogsterpiece.
This day last year saw a high of 79. In 2011 it was 40. 2010: 64.
A year ago I ran 4.5 miles in shorts and a t-shirt.
Today, the ground is buried beneath a foot of snow.
The high temperature in the Twin Cities on March 9, 2012, was 39 degrees Fahrenheit. It was the last day of the 2011/2012 winter in which the high temperature topped out below 40.
This year? Not a predicted high above 32 over the next seven days.
The weather here is volatile to say the least. Three months from today, we could hit 100 degrees like we did last summer. Tomorrow night, the low may dip below zero.
Minnesota weather, like my roundabout path to a point in each blog entry, is maddening. We have spectacular moments throughout the year, especially late spring and early fall, but we have to bear that sadistic Jack Frost's fury far too long.
Life is like Minnesota weather.
Holy underwear, that's cheesy. I may as well plop myself on a park bench with a box of chocolates and wait for a feather to float to my dirty sneakers.
But I'm going with it.
As someone whose mood is affected profoundly by the weather, I'm struggling today. Seven weeks ago I rejoiced as the oozing pustule of a month, January, finally retracted its numbing grasp. Then February, with its unreachable back-itch annoyance, retreated to the hell from whence it came.
In comes March, the last ice dam blocking the infusion of April's showers, May's flowers, and June's 15 hours of sunlight each day. I know you, March. You bring snowstorms. You bring cold. I've met you before. But what you're doing this year is just cruel. Not even a sprinkling of relief amidst the torturous nether of white, lifeless ground and red, runny noses.
Oh, we probably deserve this after last year. The string of upper 70s, low 80s we were gifted 52 weeks ago certainly couldn't become a trend. Even the global warming alarmists didn't expect Minnesota Marches to suddenly become the new May or September.
But that doesn't help me today! Or this week! I want good weather! And I want it now!
And I want to make movies with budgets! And I want to be a series regular on a popular TV show! And I want Forrest's box of chocolates!
And I want the exclamation point to replace the period as the preferred sentence-ending punctuation!
Like the weather, we can try to predict the lunch we'll eat tomorrow, the movie we'll see next weekend, the project we'll undertake next month, or the better job we'll accept next year, but inevitably, something will prevent us from fulfilling at least some of our self-prophecies.
My 22-year-old self wouldn't have predicted where I'd be today, and my current self has all but given up making predictions. The best we can do is work toward a satisfying goal. Along the way, there will be 2012 Marches with little to no snow, record highs, and ice-free lakes; but there will also be 2013 Marches sucking the very will to breathe. Nay, sucking the very ability to breathe. It hurts. Oh how it hurts.
We can't change the weather (unless we're Steve Martin in LA Story), so we need simply accept it for what it is, knowing it too shall pass. Today is nearly over and tomorrow is predicted to be -- um -- even colder. But then the next day is -- colder yet. But maybe - just maybe - next week will bring a few hours of above-freezing temperatures. Then the 40s, 50s, and 80s aren't far behind.
My career may be stuck in 2013 March, but it can't last forever. While I'm here, I can whine about the frozen expanse of emptiness or I can continue planting seeds in preparation for the thaw. Even if I'm stuck in the cold a while longer, eventually it will warm up. Right?
Life is like a box of Minnesota weather alright.
2 comments:
I hear you loud and clear, Justen. It's been a nasty, cold, slow winter. Keep planting those seeds...they're bound to take root soon!
Thanks for the support, Kari! I appreciate your ability to resist slapping me upside the head and telling me to wake up and smell the roses! Wait, there are no roses to smell right now. Maybe by August...
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