It's a winter slump. I stay in. I hide under blankets. I watch endless hours of TV. I read books. I don't often venture out.
I am from the desert. It's a warm place even in winter. On days when I can't feel my toes, I long for those warmer temperatures.
I forget about summer. I forget it's sometimes too humid, and I miss those long days and warm nights. I forget I sweat at night instead of freeze and I wish it would get here faster.
I hate leaving work in the dark. I remember that it used to be sunny when I left. I remember when we could enjoy walking outside instead of hurrying quickly to the shelter of the nearest warm place.
I lose motivation. I drink thousands of cups of hot tea. I find creative ways to drink hot beverages: salted caramel hot chocolate, caramel apple cider (or maybe I just find ways to imbibe more caramel).
I miss salads as I slurp my soup. I constantly use my slow cooker. I still don't want to do dishes.
I bring my plants indoors. They crowd my already small kitchen. I dream of the abundance of a spring garden. I want squash and tomatoes and peppers all freshly picked. I pray nothing else left outside dies as I try not to be sad uprooting another dead plant.
Suddenly, I notice it's slightly warmer than last week and it's not as dark outside as it usually is at 5.
I remember summer starts at 4AM as the sun tries to invade my sleeping area. I don't mind it, I think kicking off blankets.
The orange glow of my heater will be the quiet whir of a fan. It doesn't matter if it's not cold enough to keep me cool. I remember the cicadas buzzing all night and the early hours of the morning. I remember they often fly straight toward me. Compared to the chill in my bones it doesn't seem to matter so much now.
The beach is empty. I remember it's overcrowded in the summer. I don't mind so much now as I remember bare bodies peppering the sand and splashing in the waves. Everyone is smiling. I miss vacations and eating ice cream on hot days.
I miss shorts and sandals and tank tops. I miss hats and sunglasses. I feel like I never have enough layers to keep me warm. I feel bulky and weighted.
I miss riding my bicycle. I miss not having a destination in mind. Now the wind slices my hands and stings my face and two minutes to the store is too long. I miss exploring my neighborhood. I miss finding shops I never knew were there or tiny flower shops bursting with herbs.
I miss going places and updating this blog with my misadventures. I miss being lost in Japan.