After a lazy day yesterday, Etienne wanted to get out of the house today, but I took one look outside at the frigid winter winds, blowing snow around, and I would say a snowball had a better chance in hell than I did of going out and about in town. However I could see he was getting a little bored and I decided to bite the bullet and suggest a dinner out. He went for the idea, partly because we are running low on grocery components to make full, proper suppers, partly because he could get a gluten-free beer, and I sort of think a small part was that I hadn't really left the house (except for a 20 minute run to the market for milk and bread) since...Boxing Day? Did I really not leave the house after then?
I admit that I become a total hermit in the winter. While it's true that I am a sufferer of seasonal affective depression, an isolating condition in and of itself, to be honest, I don't go out in the winter because I hate winter with a passion. I hate being cold all the time, I hate trying to walk in the snow and ice, and I really, really, really hate the wind. So it happens that I could be quite content to stay in as much as possible during these awful winter months.
Summer...
...Wish you were here.
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