Today was gorgeous. It was like Mother Nature decided that she'd had enough of this gloomy, doomy wintery stuff. The day couldn't have been prettier if the sky was spitting kittens at me. I love kittens more than I love practically every person in the world, so for it to be so nice that kitten rain couldn't improve it? Perfect.


I decided that I had to sit out on the patio for awhile. Most of the furniture is stored for the winter, but we left the swing outside. I spend the entire summer in that swing. It's a perfect place to curl up with a book and enjoy the warmth of the sun. I can even count on a kitten to join me. She's a crotchety old mean kitten who's just as likely to pluck out my eyes as purr, but swing, kitten, book, sun. You just can't go wrong.

Sitting the swing, I started to sweat. I haven't sweat outside since October. I froze a lot, but I didn't sweat.


I decided to put on shorts and flip flops. Because of that non-sweating thing, I've also been encasing myself in a billion layers. Billion is not too much of an exaggeration. I'm a cold person. I need my layers. Except for the approximately 47 seconds I have in the shower each morning before a kid screams like I'm going to find gallons of blood on the walls, my feet have been hiding in socks. I should have left them there. As we all know, photosynthesis requires sunlight. Photosynthesis doesn't work on feet covered in fuzzy boots. My feet were so freaking white that my new white socks looked dirty by comparison. When I walked outside in pasty feet, I'm pretty sure the guys working on the house next door went instantly blind from the sun glare off my toes. My legs weren't as bad, or maybe by that time I was just too blind to notice.

I sat out in that glorious sun for at least an hour. Not even one time did I think that kittens falling into my lap would make everything better. That is how completely desperate I was for sun and warmth and total non-gloominess. And this wonderful day made it so that I'll be able to survive the next few months of winter without hurting the people that I don't like as much as kittens. (I'm talking to you assholes that get in my way at Costco and Safeway, because you just flat out piss me off. Stay away from the sample ladies and read your soup labels off to the side of the aisle for the love of Pete. You don't want me stabbing your eyes with pieces of store brand spaghetti noodles.)