Five Stages of Winter

There have been some who have said that winter is a time of death. Come late November, early December, all things living begin to hide away, lose their leaves, batten down the hatches, and/or die away until March or April. The trees are barren. The grasses are brown. A few brave (some might call them foolhardy) birds and squirrels remain, subsisting off of what spare nourishment might remain.

Winter is a time of death. And though there are some who jump for joy at the first sight of snow, I'm with my boy, John Donne. Death (aka winter) is not welcome in my house.

This realization, this relatively new understanding of the truly necrotic nature of this sinister season has helped me better understand my own reaction thereto. A very smart lady once wrote a while book on the process a person goes through when faced with the reality of death. And here's how that's worked for me this winter.

1. Denial "It's not really winter yet. It's only OCTOBER!"
This is the phase when you see the really "cool" guys wearing shorts and flip-flops, even though it's 30 degrees outside. For me, denial takes hold as I obsessively check weather.com, HOPING that maybe tomorrow's forecast will be better. I refuse to bring my winter-clothes box up from the basement yet. There are still sandals and sundresses in my closet. Denial.


2. Anger "I hate winter! I hate winter! I! HATE! WINTER!"

This has pretty much been my standard operating procedure this year. Since our first real cold day and ever since, if I get as much as one goosebump, I'll just stop and yell at whoever will listen (typically Dave- poor, compassionate Dave). I yell and curse about how much I HATE winter, how winter is a dirty bee-otch who needs to return to the hell from when she came, how if winter was person, I would punch it in the throat. Anger.



3. Bargaining "Maybe if I eat all these carbs, I will get fat and then I won't feel cold. Then maybe I might even LIKE winter!"

If winter had an official food in my house, I think it would be bagels. Bagels, eaten two at a time (one for each hand), while snuggled under a blanket. Basically, I figure if winter thinks its okay to be less than 20 degrees outside, I think its okay for me to load up on carbs and never go outside again. Fair's fair, right? Bargaining.

4. Depression "Member that time we were somewhere warm? Siiiiiiiiiiigh. I might never be warm again. Siiiiiiiiiiigh."

Winter's here. I can't deny it, I can't scare it away with my threats of violence, I can't make any deals that will make it any better. It's freaking freezing and that's just the way it's going to be. Build a fire in the fireplace, sit as close as you can and obsess over pictures of last year's vacation. Give up hope, cause it ain't gettin any better. Depression.
5. Acceptance "Well EFF, it's colder than a toilet seat in an igloo. Eff.......Might as well get used to it."

Acceptance came to the Bruner house today. Dave and I woke up, promptly turned the heat up to a balmy 71 degrees and were happily lounging on the couch reading for a good few hours. But because I am wholly incapable of actually relaxing for an entire day off, after awhile I got itchy to get up and move. And of COURSE, our gym was closed today. Who wants to deal with a bunch of post-holiday pudgsters truing to get a jump on their New Year's Resolutions? So after a few moments of hemming and hawing, I decided to sack up and hit the pavement anyhow. Sure, it took me approximately 3 hours to pile on the 8 layers of clothing necessary to run in 12 degree weather. But in the end, it was all worth it. Frozen eyelashes and chapped face and all. Winter's here. If you can't beat 'em...you know how it goes. Acceptance.

At least SOMEONE'S happy about it.