I hate winter in the Bay Area. It’s dreary, wet and cold. It’s not the exhilarating cold of the East Coast wrapped up in a furry coat of snow or the sparkling dry cold of a Tahoe or Aspen ski run. It’s just damp and depressing weather day after day. It’s how seasonal affective disorder got it’s name– it’s just SAD, SAD, SAD. Not to mention it’s dark early these days.
I’ve upped my vitamin D. We’re running full spectrum lights around the house and I’m dreaming of a winter getaway to sun-soaked Mexico where the mojitos and guacamole never end. But meanwhile, I look out my window, pull my sweater tighter and brace for my dark and rain-soaked, high traffic commute. The only saving grace is a fabulous book on tape that is keeping me company for 30 cds worth (that’s a month of commuting). I’m listening to Ken Follett‘s thrilling opus: Pillars of the Earth. When I compare medieval monastic life in Olde England‘s cold and dank climes to my rainy S.F. Bay life, I gain both a literary escape and a reality reminder to quit my whining. It could be worse!