I'm not the kind of guy who slips into a winter funk. I guess I just don't have time for that nonsense. Well, and I don't really deal with winter, and haven't for more than 30 years.
Every year after the Christmas holidays there are always stories about people who, looking forward and not seeing another real holiday until May's Memorial Day, are consumed with despair. Slogging through snow and ice as your nose goes numb only adds to the melancholy.
According to a Gallop Poll, in 2014, 70% of people hated their jobs. Man, if you've got to deal with winter weather to get to a job – if you are one of the ones fortunate enough to have a job – that you abhor, you probably define misery.
I made a promise to myself decades ago that I would never live north of the Mason-Dixon line again. And I haven't. My family moved from Ohio to Wheeling, WVa when I was the tender age of 10. Although I would move to another 11 cities in 9 different states before coming to rest in Greenville, SC forty years later, they were all located in the South and Southwest. Sure, other then the 25-plus years I spent in South Florida, and the 3 years I lived in West Texas and New Mexico, I resided in places that get cold and even have an occasional snow. Most winters, we have three to six inches in Greenville. But here's the kicker: Most winter-afternoon temperatures sneak into the 50s and the sky is sunny four out of five days.
Nope. Winter weather has little impact on my attitude.
And as for my job....what job? Sure, this is a two-edge sword. While I don't make any money that I can count on, my time is pretty much my own. Rather than day dreaming in a stuffy cubicle in an office somewhere, I am sitting in my home office in my sweats typing this lame attempt at some prose. Would I rather be making money? You bet, but I do what I want when I want and I get weekends off. Sweet!
So, although my job – such as it is – may be found lacking in several areas, such as generating an actual income, it certainly doesn't inspire hate. I'm mean, really? Later this month I fly to Key West to drive the all-new Buick Cascada convertible and then head to the California coast to test out the redesigned Nissan Sentra. Woe is me; my life sucks.
To those laboring under the gloomy skies of the winter blahs, I'd like to say, I share your pain; but, of course, I don't. I may not have any money, but I am pretty damn pleased with myself.