|This photo was taken last month when--shocker--it was snowing. My son's face best sums up our feelings about this weather.|
In Facebook statuses, in work meetings, in casual conversations--all we do is talk about how sick we are of this freezing, snowy, slushy weather. It's banal, but we can't help it. It's all we can think about. Because it will. not. end.
And guess what? It's snowing again today. Surprise, suckers! So here I am, putting more mileage on my well-worn Sorels and trying to build a decent outfit around a trapper hat.
Meanwhile, my friends in California are killing me with their status updates and Instagrams. Last week, one friend posted pictures of her daughter's backyard birthday party. The kids were in sundresses. Please note that, except for the brief, bundled walk to and from school, my kids have essentially been inside since OCTOBER.
Another friend shared photos of her children frolicking in the ocean. That happened the same day my daughter's boots leaked, leaving her feet soaking wet and freezing by the time we got to school. I had to have my nanny rush out to deliver dry shoes and socks.
It begs the question: Am I doing this wrong?
Why am I, as a human woman--one with warm blood and the ability to Google Southern California real estate--subjecting myself and my kids to this?
After last year's hellish winter, two of my beauty industry friends basically said "fuck this" and moved their families to Florida. Now they regularly post pictures of their kids at the pool. THE POOLS IN THEIR OWN BACKYARDS. They are happy. They are warm. I am jealous.
I love New York, but this weather is insane. And there's no law that says I have to stay here. I don't need a passport to move south or west. There are these things called moving companies. People do in fact leave this place.
But, I know that I won't. We have a life here. And jobs. And a house. And for a good two, three months out of the year, we like the weather. But I can't lie and say I don't think about leaving--hard--when I see pictures of people in L.A. sipping lemonade at outdoor cafes.
So for now, I'll just complain about it. In every conversation. Because that's what us New Yorkers do.
Am I the only one with a serious case of #SAFOMO (Seasonal Affective Fear of Missing Out)? If you live in the frigid east coast or Midwest, are you dreaming of moving, too?
And if you live in California/Arizona/Florida, I hate you. Just kidding. Please send me warm, happy, palm-tree-covered thoughts.