Remember last year when the weather was beautiful and I would walk along the Columbia in the sun in January and I was all “we are so going to pay for this”? Well, the bill has apparently come due.
The weather report for the last month and a half has been rain, rain, rain, rain, rain. “The wettest month since (whatever)!” “Flooding in (everywhere with a river)!)”
It’s dark. It’s grey. It’s wet. Wet. Wet. Even my bouncy, bouncy toddler-dog is curled up in a wet funk today.
The front page of the Oregonian yesterday was a satellite picture of a gaggle of huge wet storms lined up across the Pacific waiting for their turn to soak us, and the witty slogan, “Looks Like Rain.” Ha ha. I laugh lest I cry.
I used to be all “quit yer bitchin” about people getting fed-up with the Northwest winter rain. Hey, the rain makes this place what it is. Green, clean, beautiful, and less crowded than LA. If you complain about the rain, you need to go back to California, blondie, and stay out of my real estate market. But now I’m beginning to start, and I was born and raised here.
It’s making me lazy and depressed. I need a jolt of pure sunshine. But if you played me one of those 60’s happy-sunshine songs right now, I would seriously slug you.
I wonder if tanning beds help. I doubt it. They’re not full-spectrum sunlight. I couldn’t try it, because my dermatologist would frown at me, and I can’t take that kind of pressure.
And I’m not sure going away would help, because you just have to come back. And experience tells me this rain still has many, many weeks to go before it lets up. And that let-up will be temporary, as it usually stays pretty wet around here until Independence Day. No joke there. Just the sad truth.
Oh, and never tell me to smile. I hate that. HATE that. Come around again in July and I’ll smile for you. Till then, bite me.