It has been 12 days since my last post and I know that this is unacceptable. I try to take responsibility for my wrong doings, I really do, but today as I come to my dear readers in an attempted act of contrition apologetic words escape me. Instead of "please forgive me" all I can hear repeating over and over in my head are the wise words of Fab Morvan and Rob Pilatus (or Mili Vanilli for those of you not in the know). These words, a pet maxim of mine, are "... whatever you do, don't put the blame on you. Blame it on the rain."
When I moved to Seattle in the summer of 2009 I was well aware of the city's gloomy reputation but always being one to give the benefit of the doubt I ignored warning and dove in with abounding optimistism about our future togheter. Who needs the sun? Rain boots are hot!
A year later I can honestly say that my time here has been filled with bliss. The only real issues to have arisen stem from the shoddy roads, terrible infrastructure, and clueless motorists that plague the streets rather than the damp climate and my new vitamin D difficiency. But even saints have their limits and these past few weeks known around here as "June-uary" have really taken its toll and left me feeling miserable. It is a drizzle induced despondency that not even a good cathartic cry during Toy Story 3 could ease. Finally today the sun has emerged and we are promised a high of 72 degrees! But instead of sighing with relief and allowing the healing to begin I am filled with panic. Tomorrow we're probably right back where we were yesterday (which was a summer solstice with no sun!!) and so what am I doing inside? I must immediately go hiking, running, kayaking, and sun bathing (these white legs are surely not helping my quest to fight off old maid status!!). At any moment these rays of warmth will disappear indefinitely!
I know I am not alone in these feelings of gloom, doom, and subsequent anxiety. I suppose at some point I will have to weigh out the mental taxation of the weather against my own love of the city and decide "do I stay or do I go"? Until then I must admit that it is nice to have a scape goat in common with the majority of Seattle-ites. Tomorrow when once again I am feeling lathargic, angsty, and self-pitying all at once and someone says "Hey. What's wrong with you?" it's comforting to know that all I need to do is cast a finger towards the sky and say "I'm sorry. It's not me, it's the rain." And the thing about this particular scape goat is that "the rain don't mind and the rain don't care. You gotta blame it on something. So blame it on the rain."