Manna from Heaven vs. Crap from the Sky

Why, Minnesota? Why? We don't need half a foot of snow in the middle of friggin' April.

It's another of those bipolar days that I seem to be having so often lately. I've reached the conclusion that winter isn't ever going to end, and I guess I've kind of resigned myself to that. Everyone from Al Roker to Lisa the daycare lady has been ranting about the weather all day, so I'll spare you my real tirade, but I have to at least acknowledge an observation or two.



Observation 1. This weather makes us diagnosably mentally ill. All of us. The diagnostic criteria for Bipolar I is "one or more manic or mixed episodes", and I think I observed that in my office thirty or forty times today. At one point, all five of the girls who work within earshot of me were howling with laughter at various conversations, either amongst ourselves or in our heads. It was a desperate, horrible sort of laughter that was funny in the "not-really-funny-but-I-can't-help-this" sort of way. We did horrible things, like reading blogs and listening to Michael Jackson songs from 1983 on company time. Then we all felt horrible about whatever we found funny, which led to collectively sitting in silence at our computers, really wanting to work but unable to do anything but stare disbelievingly out of our windows. Total shock. And the definition of a "mixed episode". According to the DSM-IV-TR, all it takes is one episode.



Observation 2: I'm not a very kind person. Once, I was very caring. I like to think I'd do anything for a friend, but the reality is that I'm out of patience. I used to be the kind of girl who did nice things for the people in my life, like bringing people flowers or putting extra post-its in their desk drawer before they ever realized they were running low. These gestures were by no means noble, but were intended to make a buddy's day. Today I realized that this season has broken me. Between my very, very, very, very, very, very busy schedule and the bitterness I feel toward Mother Nature, it takes literally all of my energy to keep from filling a moving van (or a pickup, or even just a box) with my belongings and disappearing to Maui. Now all I can do is spout unsolicited advice, nod a lot, and fill in conversational pauses with sarcasm. Not the person I want to be. The karmic debt is huge. Thanks, Minnesota. You've finally broken me.


There is a little bit of light in this hellishly cold tunnel, though. The heavens dropped me a new "mentee" today. She's 18-going-on-older-than-me, an excellent writer for her age, and a photographer to boot. Her stuff doesn't look like student work. I shall use her to write captions, pull research, and fact check her face off. My magazines may just survive the week.


That's all I got. I either have to go to bed now, or pack my crap for Maui. And really, I can't afford Maui, unless I find it in my soul to be nice enough to someone that they give money for airfare in gratitude. While being nice with such selfish intentions may not be great for the karmic debt, it certainly helps with the snow issue.


Besides, I'll have plenty of time to work on the unconditional kindness...when it's 70 degrees and sunny.