I'm not shy about my feelings about Spring. I hate it.
To me, Spring has no rhyme or reason. It has no rhythm and I crave structure. Spring is messy and I like clean. When I'm feeling out of control and out of sorts, cleaning calms me. It gives me a sense of purpose. Cleaning gives me clarity. Spring is green shoots poking out of ground half exposed and half covered in snow. It allows the earth to show herself, but it's like she's half dressed and a little hungover. And top it off, it's kicked off by depriving me of an hour of sleep. Spring forward? More like drag forward.
This springing forward put me in mind of my dog, Maxie. She had a problem with doorways and thresholds. She'd do this paw in/paw out cha-cha like the Purina cat chow dance. Sometimes, the dance was brief: paw forward, paw back, paw forward, paw back, and through. Other times, this would go on for what seemed like forever. I tried to talk to her about it. I'd tell her it was the doorways she'd been going through since puppyhood. I'd remind her about all the times she'd doubted herself in the past, but once through she was fine. To no avail. Every doorway and threshold began with the dance. In the early days, it was adorable. As the years passed, the cha-cha grew tiring. And on my worse days: "For the love of all things holy, Maxie, go through the *#$@ door!" and she'd jump through. Oy, vey.
As I went through the house this morning, changing all the clocks, I realized that Daylight Savings Time is Mother Nature saying: "For the love of all things holy, Nikki, go through the @$%# door!" If I had a choice, I would forever live in the Fall with its overarching hibernation theme. I'm an isolator. I've always been that way, and I need the proverbial kick in the rear to get out. So alright already, I'm up. Can we just go easy with the early sunlight for just a few more days? I need a few days to recover from that lost hour.
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