Fridays I have lunch with Jason. He doesn't know I'm having lunch with him. I just make it a point to show up at this God-awful Chinese place because I know he'll be there. And, the only way I know his name is because they call it out when his Kung Pao Chicken is ready. You might call him an imaginary boyfriend. I call him a welcome diversion on a boring afternoon.
For weeks, now, we've been suffering through the worst weather conditions imaginable: bright blue skies, warm temperatures, gentle breezes, happy sunshine... it is so miserably beautiful around here, I feel like jumping off a cliff.
I live in ski country and we have no snow. I have not called in sick, lying about an illness so I could go skiing, even once this year. (My employers are becoming suspicious of my sudden dedication.)
While the tourists are rejoicing ("oh, it's so warm!") I'm left pondering what this weather pattern will do to my world. High plains deserts get most of their annual moisture from snow. Without it, we'll be deadly dry this summer and that's what sparks the wildfires that can zip across the meadow and gobble up my house.
But, I don't need to worry any longer. After I got tired of staring at Jason, I went home and checked the weather report. My cookie was right. It's gonna snow tomorrow. And, that should save all the wildflower seeds laid bare by this crazy melt.