Yeah, I’m supposed to be elated that spring is here. I’m not going to capitalize it, because — much as it’s the convention, and being a formal season name and all — I don’t want to give it the “power”.
I’m supposed to be elated, but I’m not. If anything, I’m irritated.
Pollen is coating my car. That’s not good.
I get “gummed up” and mucus-laden.
Everybody’s running around like feral chickens with all this kinetic energy.
The days are (thankfully) not as long as they eventually will be, but they’re longer than I like. I need a better balance between night and day — preferably with a little more night than day. Longer days are a significant adjustment for me, and by the autumn, I’m pretty well worn out with my circadian rhythm skewed towards daylight.
If I had my d’ruthers, it would stay April forever – not because of Autism Awareness Month (heaven help us), but because the length of days and the temperatures and the precipitation are just about right for me.
But I don’t get my d’ruthers in this case, so I guess I’ll just need to be an adult about it.
Anyway, this is all just me being cranky about seasonal changes. Me being brittle about my life. Things have been busy, lately, and I’m feeling pressed and hectic, and I’m off my schedule, so that’s no fun.
I just have to remember that change is a constant, that I’ve dealt with this transition many times before in my life, and as challenging as it is now, I’ll adjust to it and move along.
Until the next big change, of course.