Park Avenue, March 2012 |
I feel like we've gotten off so easy this winter (which ends, officially, this week), with days in the 60s and 70s in February and March. By this time in the season, I'm usually cursing the cold and suffering from a major case of SAD, grumbling about New York and dreaming of moving to somewhere near the Equator.
But this year has been different. It's like everyone's on heat, semi-delirious to be able to wear sandals and short sleeves sonner than they had dared to hope they might. The sidewalk cafes are jam packed and at home, my windows are wide open.
I think it's definitely made my pregnancy thus far a bit easier, as it hasn't been difficult to motivate myself to go out for long walks or galavant around the city. I've even (sort of) forgotten those blurry, exhausted days around weeks 8 and 9, when buying milk at the corner store felt like an impossible task.
And though I know August may well be oppressive, I'm relishing these months of wearing skirts and sundresses and being out in the world. I don't do well when I'm cooped up at home watching repeats of Anderson, and when I have to bundle up it's easy to make excuses to stick close to home.
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