And the Snowmaggedon Never Came
The phone never rang.
The Tweets never hashtagged.
The conversations and speculations never occurred online.
There was no guilt-free day off.
That's what I kept telling people during the mild February. "Just you wait, February may be warm," I said, "but March is going to be brutal."
That whole "spring comes in like a lion and leaves like a lamb," saying kept going through my head.
Except, spring came early with many days in the upper 60's. So, this spring isn't like a lion at all.
It's a lion in lamb's clothes.
Just this week, not only was it a lion in lamb's clothes, but it wore a cape, threw confetti, danced in the streets and threw a tantrum. It also went to Mardis Gras, threw beads, kicked people, had the best night ever, and then woke up hungover.
Somebody, please call this Lion in Lamb's clothes an Uber.
Because, seriously, this is how it went down this week:
Enjoyable warmth. I was able to take the Girls out with no jacket. I was out there with just a t-shirt. Well, not just a t-shirt, but you get what I'm saying. That warm air was still and almost creepy. Well, not really all that creepy, but with the threat of severe weather, it definitely upped the creep-factor.
I saw the Lion in Lamb's clothes wearing a smarmy mustache hiding in the corner of the yard, spying on everyone. Then, it pulled out some pots and pans and did a little dance with a strobe light.
The storms came, and lucky for us, knock on wood, they weren't too bad.
But once they were over, I looked out the window, surveying the damage, and spotted the Lion in Lamb's clothes again. It had put away the pots and pans. This time, it looked me in the eye and slowly unzipped its costume. It was time to become the Lion again.
I had to close the curtains.
I mean, seriously, it was beginning to get uncomfortable.
The week cast off the warm weather, exposing the typical raw air we should be used to during this time of year. The frigid air brought with it fluffy snow fakes. The same week we had tornado watches and storm warnings.
As I write this, it's still cold out, but apparently the Lion is going to put the Lamb costume on again.
It can't make up it's mind.
Which one is it Lion...are you a Lion? Are you a Lamb? Are you trying to find yourself this year?
The weather is acting like a hormonal middle school student during standardized testing time: it cannot get it together, and therefore everyone around it is suffering.
I'll sit over here in the corner and continue to wait for a last minute snowstorm that will keep me inside for, at least, one school day.
That way I can see the Lion roar before I keep the Lamb around for good.