Well, well, well, here we are. Today, I woke up all bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and ready to wish everyone a big, enthusiastic “Happy First Day of Spring!” You know, the whole birds chirping, flowers blooming, and my allergies doing their thing. Except there’s just one tiny, microscopic problem…the first day of spring was two days ago. Yep. Oops.

Somehow, in my infinite wisdom (and probably caffeine withdrawal), I convinced myself that the first day of spring had to be on a weekend. I mean, doesn’t it just feel like a weekend thing? Like Mother Nature’s way of saying, “Hey, you made it through winter, here’s a Saturday full of sunshine as your reward!” But alas, it was a Wednesday, and here I am, two days late to the spring party.

But you know what? I’m going to roll with it. Today is my first day of spring. Who’s going to stop me? The daffodils certainly aren’t—they’re out there blooming like they’ve got something to prove. And if my non-stop sneezing is any indication, the pollen is here, too, in full force. So as far as I’m concerned, I’m right on schedule.

In fact, I think I’m onto something here. Why not just embrace this idea that spring begins when you say it does? Maybe it starts on the day your allergies flare up. Maybe it’s when you bust out that first iced coffee of the year. Or perhaps it’s the moment you realize it’s no longer socially acceptable to hide under five layers of blankets at all hours of the day. For me, it’s whenever my brain catches up with the calendar—and apparently, this year, that took an extra 48 hours.

So here’s to my first day of spring! Even if it’s a little belated, I’ll still soak up the sunshine, watch the flowers bloom, and sneeze my way through the next few months with gusto. Better late than never, right?