I feel like I'm trapped in that movie Groundhog Day. I keep reliving the same snowstorm, the same digging out of the winter gear, the same shoveling, the same melting/thawing, the same early attempt at springtime chores just to have it turn into another snowstorm. Again. Today I drove past snowpacked curbs that looked identical to the snowpacked curbs of the past three months. The air is warmish, a constant trickle of water running through gutters and storm sewers makes a dripping noise heard everywhere I go. Soon the snow will melt again, I'll wash and dry the snow boots, pants and mittens, the weather will warm up enough to perk my spirits with excitement of blooming flowers and balmy days.
But will it? Because I've been there and done that so many times that I'm weary of the same spring/winter/spring/winter weather coming over and over, like a record skipping in the same spot. The false promise of springtime just isn't doing it for me any more. I have no reason to doubt that next week I'll wake up to another winter storm followed up by another few days of 50 degree weather. My spirit doesn't even flicker hope.