Remember those good old days when a snow flurry sent you into a state of excitement that lasted for a week?
Remember those good old days when you'd wake up to see snow on the ground and bound out of bed, running to your mother and squealing "is school canceled??"
Remember the good old days when snow on the ground meant building a snowman with the neighbors?
Remember the good old days when a snowstorm meant pulling out your hat, scarf, gloves and boots and running out for a snowball fight?
Remember the good old days when snow was something to look forward to?
And I feeling very nostalgic.
Now, a forecast of snow means a pit in your stomach that won't go away for a week.
Now, snow on the ground makes you roll over in bed, press snooze another time, and make you wish you would have work cancelled.
Now, a snow storm means digging the car out before you can drive anywhere.
Now, snow on the ground means skidding, slipping and loosing control of your car.
Now, a blanket of snow on the ground leaves you pulling out your boots, and looking for your short skirt, so you can walk without getting hypothermia.
I'm feeling nostalgic. I'm feeling old. I'm feeling jealous. Age and maturity have taken the fun out of something as fun as snow. How is that fair?