“I like these cold, gray winter days. Days like these let you savor a bad mood.” Bill Watterson

It is cold outside. This morning the thermometer registered 23 degrees. The local forecast reported 17 degrees considering the wind chill factor, with a high of 40 degrees this afternoon ~ downright balmy. Tomorrow is supposed to be colder and maybe some ice/winter mix.

It's freakin' cold, and I have cabin fever. I am restless, cranky and irritable. I'm not even sleeping well...at least I don't think I am. I can't tell because I'm in this fog.

Since I can't seem to muster the slightest bit of enthusiasm for just about anything, my general response to any suggestion from Tom...

Poor Him: "So, what do you want for dinner? Do you want to make that pasta from the leftovers last night?"

Snotty Me: "Yeah, whatever..."

Poor Him: "Would you like to go out to dinner at Michaelangelo's?"

Snotty Me: "Yeah, whatever, if you want to..."

It is that ubiquitous "Whatever..." that finally sends him to the next room with jaws clenched in exasperation, searching for the tv remote in order to find something to distract him from killing me.

In my sincere effort pull myself out of this mind altering disease, I have searched the internet for a cure or remedy for Cabin Fever, but find only creative craft projects for homebound children whose parents are ready to hang them on a coat hook by their shirt collars. Not much help there, since I don't have children at home. My children are grown men who have their own children who are driving them nuts.

I think what I need is get out my big coat, my UGGS, warm gloves and a hat and walk to the market, come back and bake some scones. Or maybe I'll just start my spring cleaning early. Is that a fog horn I hear in the background? Or maybe I'll finish grouting the kitchen floor. Oh, God, there's that fog again... Or maybe I'll put on a pot of stew. I don't know.... whatever...