I like winter. Honest, I do. Mostly. Some days suck, those grey dreary ones, but I like snow. I like shovelling it, in moderation, and I like to snowshoe and ski. If I didn't, I wouldn't be living in Canada. I like that for once, we're having a real winter, with enough snow you can have fun in it. Yesterday Fuzz and I were snowshoeing on a bay on very frozen part of Lake Ontario. It was sunny enough we had to take off our windbreakers and tie them around our waists. The sun was warm and bright enough for sunglasses. Thursday night while running, I enjoyed behaving like a nine-year-old and tromping on those little ledges of ice at the edges of snowbanks that crunch when you walk on them. Almost as much fun as trying to splash my running coach in spring by running straight through the middle of puddles!
What I don't like about winter is the boring people who vacation down south and then return to go on and on about how wonderful the weather is there and how this place is so depressing in the winter. They're the same type of boob who talks about how botox or a Harley Davidson has transformed their life. I've seen that those events are often a harbinger of an impending marriage breakup. They're bad enough to listen to when they and their leathery tans plunk themselves in my path, but an hour ago I actually had a call from one of them in Mexico who was "reaching out" to someone from home, and proceeded to go on and on about how nice their place in Mexico was and how next winter they are going to spend the whole winter there instead of spending time in boring old Florida too.
What did I learn from this experience? Well, first, some people, no matter how much recovery work they've done can still be insane. Two, I can cut short calls with boring people by saying absolutely nothing. And three, I gotta get better at screening my calls. BF calls it "Call Suspect" for a reason!
No comments:
Post a Comment