January Blues...

I am ready for this week to be over. I feel as though I’ve been under my "Pootle” cloud since Monday. I don’t know if it’s the time of year or just one of those times in life where everything just seems blah but that seems to be what’s going on.

Work is going fairly well, at least. I like my job because it’s different every day. It’s actually different every hour. Gone are the days when I feel like I’m so bored, I’m going to climb over the walls of my cubicle, wave my arms in the air and tear off running down the hallways screaming “ARRRRG”

For one thing, I don’t have a cubicle. I have an office. All of my very own. Until today, it even had artwork. It was an enormous, framed, slightly tacky poster of Las Vegas. Today, I removed the artwork. I’ve disliked it since I started and the account manager next to me who is a young guy who’s never been to Vegas but wants to go asked if he could have it. Naturally, I told him yes. Now I have a bare spot on my wall but I quite like it. It’s crying out for something interesting. I’m not sure what that is but I think I’ll find it in time. I’m eying the large framed poster of London we got from HQ that’s supposed to inspire us to do our job well enough to have earned enough ‘points’ to go by August. I’m not sure where that poster is going but I have a nice empty spot on my wall where it would fit…

I digress. I like having an office. I like having the variety in my day. I don’t necessarily like that my boss hired a ‘temp’ recruiter to help me and my fellow full-time recruiter out and she’s competing with us more than she’s helping us but that’s up to my boss. We originally thought she was going to help us find resumes for open positions but it seems she’s started recruiting on her own. I suppose that’s fine. I just wish she wouldn’t use my Monster.com account and call people for my open jobs before I get there. I’m trying to rise above but I know that my fellow recruiter is also getting a little frustrated by her. We’ll see what happens there, I suppose.

However, I like virtually everything else about my new office. I like my coworkers. I like that I can leave if I need to as long as I tell someone. I like that I have sick time and vacation time. I really like that my boss doesn’t care if we go on Facebook during the day as long as we’re doing our job. At my old job, they blocked Facebook except for lunch time. This was a bit of a nuisance for the staff who were expected to maintain the company’s Facebook page during their workday. It meant…they couldn’t. It was a bit daft when you think about it. Besides, what companies don’t realize is that the majority of people have Smartphones and if they have a Facebook account, they have it on their smart phone which means you can block it all you want on the PC but it won’t stop employees from accessing it, commenting and posting regular status updates throughout the day.

So, I think I’ve established that my job isn’t the reason I’m under my 'Pootle' cloud. I don’t even lie in bed with the puppies thinking of ways to avoid going to work. This is actually a strange feeling. I spent almost two years feeling that way with my old job so to get up each morning, detangling myself from puppy bodies and paws, turning on Fox 19 Stormtracker Weather and following the rest of my morning routine doesn’t feel at all like a prison sentence. It’s quite nice.

I think it’s just a state of mind. As I said in my ‘chubby day’ blog yesterday, I’ve been feeling unhappy with myself and my clothes. I’m wondering if it’s because winter clothes feel so lumpy. So many of my big, warm sweaters make me feel blobby, I’m wondering if I need to replace them. Some of them need it. I have a fondness for chenille but I’ve discovered that no matter how careful you are when you wash chenille, inevitably, it wears away and you’re left with bare spots on the garment.

But what to wear when it’s below freezing outside and your office isn’t the warmest either? It’s an interesting dilemma. Any suggestions on that?

I’m hoping that this weekend, if I take some ‘me time’ and just enjoy myself, I’ll lift myself out of the doldrums and feel better about everything. I’m feeling the need for something ‘new’ in my life. I don’t know if that’s a new novel or a new boyfriend or simply a new friend. I think I just need to shake the January blues. Even though February is a little too ‘pink’ in my mind, it’s short and sweet and doesn’t come on the heels of a major anticlimax as the holidays end and the world is grey and cold. I like the world when it snows but lately, we’ve just had the remnants of the last snowstorm sticking around and making everything look messy. I’d rather have a nice fresh covering. I even wore my snowflake pendant today. (Please don’t kill me, mum!). I’m hoping it’s good luck charm will bring on the snow this weekend. Then I can have a lovely self-enforced snow day. That sounds like a treat.

Next week I promise to be less ‘grey’ and more upbeat. Thanks, as always for reading!

Happy Friday!

Early Snow...the Joy and the Guilt....

I made a mistake last night.

I made the mistake of talking to the puppies about what would happen when it snowed.

To top it off, I wore one of my snowflake necklaces today.

This may not seem like a big deal to most people but when you're a Monkeypants in possession of a dire love of snow, it's a dangerous thing indeed.

It's only November. As much as I love snow and the comfortable cosiness of the things associated with it, even I know that it's too early. Only yesterday I was mocking the giant inflatable Santa Claus down the street from my house.

Now, it seems, even though not-so-deep-inside, I'm eager for snow, we could have snow by the weekend.

For me, this is quite a delightful idea. After all, I'm the type of Monkeypants that adores the white stuff. I don't care if it's early. I only care that it's the real thing and not some slimy sleet that only wishes it were snow.

However, while I love the wintery precipitation, I'm not deluded enough to expect everyone to agree with me.

Thus, since it's only November 3rd tomorrow, it seems that there is snow in our forecast. By Friday, we should expect raw, cold temperatures that promise precipitation. If we get the precipitation, it's likely to be wet snow.

Naturally, being the winter-loving Monkeypants I am, this sets off certain interior cartwheels/songs of joy within me.

Yet, also being the sympathetic, empathetic Monkeypants I am, I can hear the groaning and moaning of my mother's anti-winter bones curling themselves up into a fetal position as we speak.

Personally, I can't wait. I made my puppies coats a few weeks ago as I mentioned on this blog. Thus, once we start getting temperatures that are below freezing, I still expect my little pups to don their coats and go walking in a winter wonderland with me.

Yet, the realist in me protests. Perhaps it is too early. Perhaps the beginning of November is too early for snow.

The sad thing is, I just can't tell anymore. I've lost my sense of the seasons to my sense of what I love most about the seasons. I love this transition period. I loved how Autumn suddenly slapped the hand of Summer and said "no more," as it made the leaves finally tumble from the trees and the nights to grow cold. I love how Autumn has to give way to winter with the spirit of balmy days that are interlaced with frozen nights that stunt the growth and progression of anything until spring.

I know I'll love it when Winter has it's ice-cold grip on us but Spring sneaks in and says, "look, you can be as frigid as you want but during the day, I'm taking control" and, slowly, her magic works and there are crocus, daffodil and hyacinth shoots peeking through the frozen earth.

Yet there's a long way to go until then. In the meantime, it's still Autumn with only a hint that snow looms. Nevertheless, the hint is strong enough that I'm already being blamed for the potential frozen precipitation.

My problem is that I love snow. In my former days, I had a dachshund named Sausage who would help me bring upon snow by our ritual dance. In my newer days, I have a dachshund named Sookie who can also help me do the dance but she's yet to realize the consequences of her infectious joy. In addition, my mother gave me a snowflake necklace that seemed to bring on the weather whenever i wore it.

This year, I haven't yet worn that necklace but I have another snowflake which, I confess, I wore today. It's not as fancy nor as obvious but given that snow was predicted by Frank Mazullo and Fox 19 Stormtracker weather, it seems to be quite as effective.

I admit, the joyous part of me that enjoys frolicking in the snow, that enjoys the frozen tundra of winter is happy that this weekend could be the start of the ice-laced season.

Yet, the realistic part of me, the part that will always be tied, invisibly, to my mother who I love beyond words, knows that it IS too early. It's only the first week of November. Winter doesn't officially begin until December 21st. A few weeks ago I was complaining that Summer was being greedy by trying to infringe her heat and warmth on Autumn's territory. Now, it seems. Autumn is getting the shaft again because Winter is being slightly greedy and wanting to speed things along.

I have to admit, the idea of a wintry covered sidewalk adust with snow doesn't exactly make me unhappy yet the nature of my personality is that I care about others. I know my mother and other winter- despising humans are definitely not ready for snow.

Yet, no matter how I feel or try to feel, the fact is there's snow in the forecast for this weekend. I just want to go on the record and say that it was NOT my fault. Sure, I wore one of my pendant necklaces and I described it to my puppies but this doesn't mean it's my fault.

Of course, if I decide to wear the official necklace and do the offical, "Snow, Sookie!, Snow!" dance, that's another story.

I'll keep you posted. It won't happen for a while, mum...I promise.

Happy Wednesday!

The Muddle of Winter...

This has been a muddly sort of week so far. I suppose, in winter, muddle is really the order of the day. You never can tell what's going to happen outside- the weather takes pride on being as unpredictable as possible. A week ago, Mr. Weatherman informed us that we might get 'a few snow showers'. Almost 9 inches later and I just shoveled my driveway for the third time in four days. I think we can safely say Mr. Weatherman is full of it.

I'm still loving the snow. Even though the drive to work is a little hairy and I don't like it when the wheels of my Toyota Corolla start to slide as I navigate to work, it's still amazing to see how different the world looks when a thick coat of white snow masks it. I love shovelling snow. It sounds a little mental to say that but it's true. When I say that at work, people say, "oh, whatever. It's only because you've only had to do it a couple of times. Wait until next year."

I beg to differ. Shovelling snow is therapeutic to me. It's a way of taking a heap of potential problematic mess and digging in to get rid of it. With each plow of my shovel, cleanliness and order reappears. Also, after about ten minutes, I'm sweating and feeling the exertion. In my book, that makes it good exercise. In summation: Shoveling snow is both good for my muscles and for my soul.

As I write this, I'm looking out the window. It's a vast wilderness of white out there. It's a frosty, freezing sort of white. As far as Mr. Weatherman predicted, it's supposed to be cold out there and, with the wind chill, even colder.

I can feel my mother shudder as I write this. As I've mentioned, Mummy Monkeypants is not a winter creature. She's the sort of human who thrives when the sun shines. In spring, she starts to awaken; in summer, she's at her best. It's interesting, really; two winters into my new life in Ohio and I'm still loving every snowflake. I'm still performing the Snow Dance with Sausage until I'm forbidden. Which, by the way, I'll have you know, I was forbidden from performing the dance this week. Also, I was forbidden from wearing my necklace.

Yet, it doesn't matter. Each time it snows, I feel a little more of me awaken. I'm not sure why. Like Mummy Monkeypants, I enjoy the Spring. I enjoy the beginning of Summer. I enjoy the end of Summer when the Autumn leaves start turning and winter whispers on the air. It's just that hot, miserably part of the year that I don't like. I suppose, in short, I like the coolness of the seasons. I like winter because it's unarguably cold. I like spring because it begins cold and ends with the intense warmth of summer days but still has chilly, cool nights. Autumn has the same: Hot days, cool nights. It's just summer I don't really like: Hot days, hot nights...no real distinction as to when the sun sets.

As I write this, I realize there are at least several dozen people I know who would think I am insane for saying I love winter and its snowy gloriousness. Having been on Facebook, I have at least that many friends who have wished for somewhere warm and sunny in the face of the brutal snowstorm we've been facing.

As for me, I revel in the icy flakes. Granted, I don't like having to drive on the stuff. I'd rather be snuggled inside, looking out as the snowflakes cascade to earth, covering the ground over and over so that nothing of normalcy remains, awash in the stark white splendour of the snowy backdrop.

Yet even when I have to be at work, I take pride in the fact that when I look outside, see the snowflakes tumble downwards, I smile. It's winter. It might be icy, it might be mean but it knows how to get our attention by creating a muddle.

And, sometimes, when you learn to accept it, living in a muddle isn't bad. It makes things interesting.

Just keep a snow shovel on hand.

Happy Thursday!