For the first time in my entire life, I do not have spring fever.
Yes, I will enjoy the warmer weather. Yes, I am looking forward to the lack of snow. Yes, I will not miss the nasty salt stains all over my shoes. And yes, the dogs will definitely appreciate being able to go out on a walk longer than 45-seconds before turning into 5-pound furry icicles. But really, I'm kind of dreading spring.
This whole being light out until after 7PM thing is kind of messing with me. Winter gave me the permission to be lazy and hole up in my bedroom with my Netflix and my yoga pants right after work. I mean, it was pitch dark outside at like 4:45PM, it only seemed natural to do absolutely nothing at that point. Winter fits my current mood. Spring does not.
I am hating all this crap about 'new life,' and 'new beginnings' and blah, blah, blah. I wish I could write an inspiring post about how I am blossoming and growing into this beautiful new person, or that I am ready to emerge from my cocoon and fly free like a butterfly or something. Maybe after May 8th (your first birthday, which I hate to admit I am just dreading) rolls around, I'll be ready to spread my wings (or something equally as cheesy). But for now, I'd like a couple more months of hibernation.
I read this post from last spring and it just makes me so damn sad.
I had written, "Easter is all about hope, fresh starts, and new life--and I couldn't help but keep thinking about you all day and how you are really bringing all these things into our lives. A brand new chapter in our lives is about to begin, and I am so incredibly excited to see where it takes us."
I never in a million years thought this next chapter of my life would turn out the way it did. If I would have known, I wouldn't have been 'so incredibly excited' about it, that's for sure.
Sorry to be such a downer, baby.
I miss you. I miss that fresh feeling of hope that I had one year ago.
2 hours ago