I think I've finally reached the threshhold of true adulthood. Why, when I'm almost 28 years old, do I think I'm just now becoming an adult, you ask? It's quite simple really. I'm ready for spring.
This is the first year that I've honestly disliked winter from the start, aching for the warm spring and summer are to make it's way in. I used to love the winter season, anxious to dig out my sweaters each year in September and keep cozy in them through March (or even April if you grew up in Upstate NY as I did), keeping my mug filled with hot drinks, staying inside on the weekends or heading out to play in the snow. Even last year, when Washington D.C. received record snow falls, I was a happy girl, staying warm in my house or heading out to play in the deserted street with my dogs. This year? I'm cold. I'm cranky. I'm ready for spring. I want to hop on a plane to Florida or California and wait out the rest of these chilly and gray days.
I am now an adult.