The End-of-Winter Itch

I haven't been very inspired to write about much of anything lately. The things that get me really fired up (banning guns so Mexican drug cartels won't get them from us, Uggo Chris Gregoire, whiny pregnant people who believe pregnancy and the ensuing "stay-at-home-mom" title are the penultimate and ultimate goals in life and everyone else is pathetically missing out) are too exhausting and useless to dwell upon, and the daily occurrences in my life seem to be direct replicas of the everyday mundane from the day before. I'm not complaining too much about the lack of variety in my life; smooth sailing is a much better alliterative cliche than stormy seas.

I'm really itching for a little more warmth so I can get back to running and biking. The training and control over my body feels so freeing; not to mention the five plus pounds of winter insulation I need to shrug off. One week of Wii Fit later and I'm still hovering at a despicable 129. Not that I've actually been doing anything to try to lose weight. Heh. Wii Fit doesn't lie.

Further, after a few months adjusting to the mini-house, I'm starting to feel cooped up; I need alone time and there's rarely any solitude to be found in this house except maybe in the shower. And even then my dog noses the door open and pokes his head in just to see what I'm up to. A little sweet, a little weird, a little annoying.

Anyway. Just 50-60 degrees outside is all I need. Please?