It always surprises me how much the weather can affect my mood, but I suppose it shouldn’t. I’m 25 now, so I’d like to think I’ve learned a thing or two about myself. But every year towards the end of May I seem to get into a funk that lasts right through to about the first week of October, and I never seem to put two and two together.
Sure, it’s not all bad. There’s the footy after all. (What a delightful sight it was to see the Swans overcome the Hawks in Saturday’s Grand Final.) But it cannot be denied that the winter months get me down. There’s a fractional increase in the general suckiness of everything in winter. It’s that sprinkle of rain in the morning and evening just in time to hit you on your way to and from work. It’s the nagging cabin fever of too many weekends spent indoors. It’s the constant nervous tension of wondering whether you will be able to get your clothes dried this week, and the forbidden thrill of wondering just how many more days can I get away with wearing this pair of undies?
People will say I shouldn’t complain because Perth weather is great compared to the rest of the world’s winters. Well maybe so, but there’s a certain romanticism in snow that we just never get to experience. And a certain pleasure to be had from wearing layers of nice jackets/vests/beanies/gloves/accessories that our Eastern States brothers can do as the cold over there warrants it. No, my friends, Perth winter is a cruel, relentless creature, tormenting me slowly but surely.
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Yesterday was a public holiday, and a beautiful 34 degree day. It was a sudden glimpse into the future of lazy summer days, and it kicked me back into feeling normal again. It was a strange day in many ways. I got up about 4am to watch the Packers play, and my nerves were all on edge for the rest of the morning. From there the day began much like every public holiday: a drive through the suburbs trying to find somewhere both open for lunch and not teeming with the great unwashed.
We achieved this rather easily for a change. I had a nice sandwich and a smoothie with Emma and Claire and then we headed to the beach. I’m pretty sure everyone I know went to the beach yesterday, but I didn’t run into any one. Mike came down to meet us and we plunged into the icy waters of Floreat Beach in a moment that can only be described as invigorating. I don’t think I was really awake until then. After that we sat in the sand and talked awhile as time slipped by.
Yes, these are the days. Maybe it’s the memories of all the good summers gone by, or the vitamin D from the sun soaking through my skin, or just a little human interaction, but one way or another I am coming back to life.