I Should Have Been A Polar Bear...

You know, I don't know

(what a weird way to start ANYTHING).. you know, I don't know... ha ha

It seems that unless you're some pencil thin model born with the gift of being genetically enhanced or one of those women that just "forgets" to eat (whatever THAT means) or one of those eating-disorder-types (well, they ARE out there) or a gym rat (who has time)... summertime is just NOT your friend.

I love winter. I love the cold I love seeing frost on the ground. I love seeing my breath outside and wearing my favorite winter hats. I love big fuzzy warm snuggly sweaters. I love getting undressed at the end of the day and slipping into my flannel pajamas, my fleece socks and my fuzzy red floor length fleece robe. I love making stews and drinking hot chocolate with my kids. I love seeing the colors change and being in the cool mountain air. I love wearing jeans.

I hate being hot and dripping with sweat by just WALKING outside to get the newspaper or the mail. The stagnant heat in the garage you feel while waiting for the car to cool off from the initial internal temperature of 150 THOUSAND degrees...

Ugh... hate it... just thot I'd rant.... does it do any good? Naah... does it make any difference? of course not... but at least you know how I feel and that's all I got to say about that! So, simply stated, I shoulda been a polar bear.