Today is THAT day. One of the worst days of the year, to me. Yes, it is the day that I am finally forced to wear socks and shoes, and retire the flip-flops. There may be other flip-flop-able days in the future few weeks, but for the most part, I think we can safely say that the flops are done. Real shoes, here I come. It couldn't have happened on a better day, weather-wise. It's gray and dark and rainy-looking, and at least that reinforces the gloominess of wearing shoes.
But actually, I love this time of year, feeling the slow winding down of the Earth in preparation for the long, cold winter. I like getting up in the morning in the dark, and having to turn my headlights on during my drive to work. I like when it gets dark early, and I feel enveloped in the comfort and warmth of our little apartment. I actually do like the cold, even if I bitch and moan about it. Which, make no mistake, I do. But that doesn't mean I don't love it and welcome it. I'm a Chicagoan, after all. We're bred for extremes of weather. I know there are people who hate it, and would flee gladly to somewhere warm all year round, but not me.
Anyway, winter means spaghetti and football, Christmas and Thanksgiving, red leaves on trees and snow (eventually) on the ground. Winter means steaming hot showers and the hum of the humidifier, gray hooded sweatshirts and knee socks under pants. Winter is cozy.
So even though I hate covering up my toes and making the switch, it's okay. It's an okay trade-off.
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