Twitter reminded me the other day that spring had finally arrived. I love the spring season. I look forward to it each year. I’m a spring baby. I love to feel that things are blooming. Although, my allergies most certainly go haywire. Spring is about rejuvenation. It’s about new beginnings.
However. However. This spring is brutal and doesn’t feel like a moment for rejuvenation. Unless you consider staying at home a time meant for self-improvements. Which, I do believe this can be an opportunity to self-respect and improve.
However. However. Keeping with how bleak the beginning of the new year was, the month of March has taking brutality to a new level. The other day I spent 12 hours straight in meetings. I had no idea it had gotten close to 80 degrees. I missed that entirely. I missed what could have been a near-perfect early spring day. All I had seen was the fog out my window. All I had seen were a few people down below walking hurriedly while masked up.
Spring has been playing with my emotions. All of our emotions. It seems that as a collective we may all miss out on the spring season. No baseball. No spring parties. No cherry blossoms in hand. I do have some fake flowers I can carry in my hand while I talk on and on in my meetings. That’s right. Fake flowers can still be my spring savior.