Because last week — my week off — began with rain. And wind. And cold.
In fact, on more than one occasion, I told my wife, “I really don’t remember it being this cold in the fall before,” to which she said, “You said that last year,” to which I said, “No — I’m pretty sure I didn’t.”
Then at some other point, I said, “You know, I really don’t remember it ever raining this much in the fall here.” And, yet again, my wife said, “You’ve said that before.”
Yeah, I know – exciting week off. Welcome to Middle Class America, where vacations are spent at home, grousing about weather.
I had all these plans to surf, but I only surfed once. I had a small window of opportunity on Thanksgiving, but then it turned out that our turkey dinner — which we thought was actually going to be fully prepared when we bought it from Albertsons — actually required two hours of preparation. So I went the next day, enjoying the knee-high surf.
I had planned to go the day after that, but yet again, it was cold and rainy. Then I considered going the next day, but again — cold.
Instead of surfing, I bought a space heater at Rite-Aid.
Now I’m back to work, and the sun is bright. There appears to be no wind. And I can’t help but think it’s some sort of conspiracy. I don’t know who’s in on it — Mother Nature, probably. Maybe the CIA or the mob.
Regardless, the forecast calls for sun all week. Right now it calls for sun on the weekend as well, but I’m sure the Russians will make sure that doesn’t happen. That’s ok, though. Maybe I’ll go out and buy a scarf and some gloves. Then I’ll complain to my wife about how cold it is.
Tribune file photo: Jayson Mellom
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