I hate weather ledes as much as the next self-respecting journalist, but I have to say it: I’m so over this winter.
It was fun for a while – all the picture taking and baking and bundling up under down comforters to watch the snow collect outside my bedroom window. That is, until I was forced to bundle up under said comforters for warmth, thanks to that power outage. Funny how so many things only seem fun when they’re optional – and when you have working heat.
I’ve never been much of a winter person – hence the reason I kept inching my way southbound down the Eastern seaboard as soon as I graduated from high school. I’ve always found the season pretty depressing, and this year has been particularly bad. The past couple winters in DC were mild (save that frigid Inauguration weekend), so getting slammed with the record Philly 2009-2010 snowfall has been a harsh transition.
The hibernate-until-spring weather is made all the more worse by the fact that I work from home. In the summer and fall, I spent a ton of time outside – a quick run before work (ok, that only happened like twice, but just go with me here), a trip to Reading Terminal during lunch, wandering up to Rittenhouse in the evening. It wasn’t great for my wallet (hello, Anthro!) but it was pretty fucking fabulous for my sanity.
These days? Um, would you believe me if I told you that as of yesterday morning, I hadn’t left my apartment – like the actual physical 700 square foot space – in 56 hours? Like, hadn’t even gone down to grab the mail? It’s so wrong, I know but…work has been busy and it’s dark and cold outside (at least what I can surmise from the windows and weather.com), and there’s always some precipation (rain, snow, they both suck) coming down from the sky. Also, I pulled out my back and threw a big party this weekend and thought I was going to have to travel for work this week and wah wah wah.
And now, Philadelphia is supposed to get its fourth major storm of the year. It couldn’t be worse timing, and not just because I’m supposed to be working in Wilmington. It also happens to coincide with an upcoming deadline for away rotation applications – four week stints at other hospitals that Dave can should do if he wants a better shot at getting a residency there. With the reality of next year’s residency match forced on me, against the backdrop of a “snowicane” (the Inquirer’s word, not mine – seriously, sometimes I’m embarrassed by my own people), my Let’s Move To California! campaign is in full swing.
Dave thinks I’m just looking for an excuse to escape, that what I actually need is a new job, not a new city. (No comment.) He says I don’t even know anything about San Francisco (true), haven’t been to San Diego in years (true) and just think the state is cool because a couple of my friends say so (true.)