Rain, Rain, Go...Are You Serious?

I love a patriotic holiday. I love any excuse to be patriotic at all. My 14 years associated with The Citadel hammered in me a love for the military that runs deep. So with Memorial Day upon us, one of the items on my mile long to-do list for the extended weekend was to purchase a new flag for our home. Luckily, we quickly found a nice little kit and I was all ready to fly those stars and stripes with pride.

And then the rain came and you can't fly our flag in the rain. And it came the next day. And now they're calling for rain and thunderstorms for the next 7 days. Are you serious, Clark?

Let me just tell you that we still went to the Memorial Day Parade as a family, but let me also tell you that it was 54 degrees. And wet and misting. I still felt patriotic, but I did not feel very festive. I saw friends posting pictures of their holiday at the beach. I saw images of toes in the sand, breezy smiles, and golden tans. I saw all of these while wearing my winter coat with only 4 days between me and June. Seriously, are you serious? This has to be a joke right?

And before I close my rant/vent/whine and poor me session, per my last post, you saw how excited I was for the painting to start on our house, right? Well, thanks to the week of rain, the painting is postponed. And the kicker is that we're having friends over in 2 weeks for Tim's birthday and I was so excited to have the house done. Um, yeah, probably not going to happen. If we're lucky, half of the house will be done by then, which is not how envisioned our place to look for company. Maybe two toned homes is the new black?

Okay, Midwest, listen up. I've given you the benefit of the doubt for almost a year now. I came back with an open mind and I embraced the change. I found new and exciting things to do here when I was convinced that you had nothing to offer me after years at the beach. I had your back when people knocked you. BUT, I'm 100% over it. I've endured what felt like the longest winter of my life. I wanted to barf when it was still snowing in April. I lied to myself and our guests when I hung my "spring has sprung" sign for our Easter lunch fully knowing there was snow on the ground just outside of our windows. My blood boils that we still have our heat on in the house. I curse your name as I drive to work with my seat warmers on high. AND this weekend, I loathed you when I was the jerk in her winter coat at Memorial Day cookout as we all huddled under a tarp tent, determined to BBQ as the rest of the country did.

Enough. Between snow storms, great floods, frigid summer temps and skin so pale that I can practically see my internal organs, I'm about to hit my breaking point. I need sun, and warmth, and summer festivities.

Please. For my sanity and for those around me. Please, before you hit us with fall and winter all over again in a few months. Please, if you'd like me to continue my residency here. I beg of you.