Depression Era

I am inexplicably depressed. Maybe because winter has finally come to an end. The snowman has left the building. Too bad; I never got the chance to use my incredible fur hat. But even that thought is depressing—I realise I have finally become so used to Montreal winters that I never need it any more.

It's difficult to contemplate life without slippery sidewalks and biting wind. Maybe it's because this winter was comparatively mild that I look back with something approaching nostalgia. The snowstorms were heavy and comfortably predictable. That is to say, they fell and then they stayed for a goodly amount of time, and then they melted in an unexpected thaw and then they fell again. There was almost no messy week of transition in which all was wet and slush. Okay, maybe once.

So why the depression, when the sun threatens to shine and a day dawns on the plus side of zero?

It suddenly comes to me: I'm looking ahead to (and dreading) the Great Burger Shoot.