7:35 a.m. - I awake to the buzzing of my alarm clock, note a complete lack of sunlight streaming through my bedroom window, then dismissively hit snooze;
7:45 a.m. - I tenuously awake, squint open a hopeful eye, see nothing but continued dreariness outside my window, and hit snooze again;
8:00 a.m. - Awake, no light. Grey. Grey. Grey. The sound of rain drifting forever against my bedroom window;
8:05 a.m. - With superhuman effort, weighty reservations, and half-baked excuses for not going into work drifting through my mind, I drag my rain-weary bones out from under my toasty warm, blankety cocoon and into the chilly, grey day awaiting me. Smirking at me.
This ongoing lack of sunlight is really sucking the life out of my ovaries, people. I miss the light, certainly, but I also ache for physical exercise, fresh air, and some valuable outdoor time. I haven’t enjoyed any cardio since I last went bike riding with my little sister nine days ago. It seems that, for the past month, six out of every seven days are inhospitable for human outdoor activity.
The situation has gotten so abysmal that I am skipping my beloved yoga class tomorrow in favor of utilizing for outdoor pleasures that indecently short window of time b/t getting off work and the sun setting on yet another day. I’ve heard rumors from those notoriously unreliable weather forecasters that the sun might show itself tomorrow afternoon. It had better. Otherwise, I’m starting a fucking fist fight with that flaming ball of gas, I swear to the Goddesses, I will!