I feel like I crossed some sort of barrier about a year ago where time now flies. I can't believe it's already December. Recently, I've really developed mixed feelings about the winter.
I've confessed before that I prefer warmer weather, but nothing completes this month like a little snowfall. Until I entered the "real world," two years ago, snow has meant a day off. And I always took full advantage. Unfortunately, I work in broadcast news, so now snow means the exact opposite. You see, if there's snow expected, we start doing 24/7 coverage. While we're advising people to stay home, I'm trying to get to work when there's three feet of snow, working overnights on the weekends, having extended shifts... you get my drift. When everyone else is celebrating "optional telework," and days off skiing and day-drinking, I'm that sole idiot hydroplaning on the roads, trying to make it in alive, working harder than I do all year.
So while part of me thinks a cold and gray holiday season is nothing short of depressing without some flurries, the other side of me knows I certainly won't be that girl leaving a party with bare legs. I'll be more like the girl getting drunk dialed while she's at work all weekend (which happens more than you'd think considering my regular shift is 4 a.m. to noon).
Fortunately, there are lots of other perks of December. A chic winter jacket, the onslaught of delicious foods and the general holiday spirit are enough to make up for my snowy schizophrenia.
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