I like the summer. I'm a Leo. Not that star signs mean anything, but lions are good (tigers are better) and the sun is a Leo thing. I think: I had a mug once with all the symbols on. Anyway, I like the summer.
I also like the cold. Well. The cool. 17 degrees is my favourite temperature. I also love snow because it's pretty and covers all those ugly plants, trees and birds. If snow was made of sun, it would probably average out at 17 degrees. That's Celsius by the way, I'm not mad.
But what I really don't like is the dark. Not that I have that SAD thing, but my mood is definitely affected by all the good sun chemicals. Which is why the impending winter holds a bit of trepidation for me. And I positively detest Christmas, a festival which can cucoon families and hold up traditions in ways that aren't great for us outsider types.
However, I don't have to let the winter get to me. That's a CBT thing, right? Think about things differently. I need to make a promise as the seasons move away from happy sunny lion time. Here is that promise:
When I open my curtains to an autumnal trudgeful of murk, instead of thinking about the damp and the dark, I'm GOING TO PRETEND I'M INSIDE A BIG CAKE.
A big lovely cake. That's why it's dark. I'm inside a humongous cake. Simple!
One day I will burst out and sing happy birthday to someone, or perhaps a huge knife will tear the cake sky asunder, but for now I am inside a lovely, lovely cake.
I mean. I don't really like cake. It's pretentious, not like biscuits. And cake reminds me of weddings which, by and large, aren't really my thing. And tigers don't eat cake, which is a significant problem.
But. Yeah. The cake thing. Stupid cakes. No, this isn't going to work. Bah. If you have any tips on being happier in the winter, please write them on a postcard.
