I am very much a whiner. I have a natural talent for it and after sixty-one plus years on the ant farm I've developed a better than rudimentary skill-set for it as well. I have a strong sense of self-a very real sense of personal hurt (real and/or imagined) and finely honed feeling of outrage about everything in the universe that's just not working out for me (whether it was supposed to or not).
I am a natural victim and the reason you may not have noticed is because you're one, too, in all likelihood. No shame, my brother or sister-it's what we do and how we roll. Besides, who has time for all this happiness anyway? Don't they say Misery Loves Company? And who of us wishes to be alone?
I offer this as my best effort at a cheering thought because we here in the Northeast and, it turns out across the country, are getting steamed and baked all at the same time this summer. Lovin' Spoonful were right on the money and John Sebastian knew whereof he spoke/sang.
It's mid-July. Six months from now, at least in this area, more likely than not we'll be up to our keisters in snow and ice and these days of 97 degrees Fahrenheit will seem like fever dreams. In much the same way as this still image from the aftermath of Winter Storm Nemo/Charlotte from February of this year looks like some kind of a bad dream.
Except dreams don't leave footprints in snowdrifts. Those are mine and mine alone and while you can't see it from that picture, the snow was about twenty-six inches deep. Guess what I was thinking about while slogging through it all? Yeah, you're right, that was too easy, wasn't it?