The European part of my Facebook and Instagram feed is celebrating the first day of spring by posting pictures of the flowers of all forms and declaring the new life full of new hopes. My American colleagues looked at me as if I were cuckoo when I congratulated them with the first day of spring few years ago on March 1, because spring in America comes on March 22, so this year I made no mistake.
This winter was so weird. In December I was sick, in January I was tired and February hit me with some news I am mad about and still very reluctant to accept. There was no snow except for one day, and cherries started blooming in mid-February only to be followed by the temperatures dropping to freezing point. The news on TV were like a bad circus, all books I started to read were kind of weird and I was forcing my way through because I don’t like to leave stuff unfinished. I stopped loving the food I used to love, and the most weird thing – I didn’t feel any inspiration to travel anywhere (though still went to New York, Philadelphia, Atlantic City and Annapolis just in a matter of month), so almost no travel plans are made for 2017 as of yet. To top it all off, I dropped my phone on the carpeted floor yesterday and shattered the screen into million pieces – something dropping it on the ground or on the tile floor could never accomplish. Yay.
Not to say that there weren’t any good things to this winter, but I’m a grumpy cat today.
I’m using today to cautiously hope for a spring that will be better and brighter. And if it isn’t, I always have an American first day of spring in just 3 weeks from today.
After all, there are should be some perks to being an immigrant.