Someone said it this morning at our staff meeting----everyone is getting cranky. I second that. It's February, we've been fighting snow and sleet and rain and slush and all kinds of precipatation for far too long. I know, I know. What do I expect? It's February in Pittsburgh. Hey, I am all for four seasons. I don't hate winter. In fact, I think that winter has a beauty all of it's own. Softly falling snow in December is sweet. It makes me want to cuddle up by the fire with a steaming cup of chai latte and write loving notes in Christmas cards for dear friends who I haven't seen in far too long. But---this shit? It's shit. That's all it is. Shit. It makes me want to drink margaritas with salt on the rim and eat a huge plate of cheesey, gooey nachos to chase away the shit. There I go.....I'm swearing for the very first time on my blog. Well, it had to happen some time. It should come as no surprise that TODAY is that moment. Because I'm cranky. It just has to be the weather. The other day my father told me he was down---I barked at him--"it's the weather." And, I want to eat......a lot. Oh, and I want to drink.......bad things. And, I can't stop thinking about what I want to eat and drink. Is this what they call head hunger? Well, let the psycho ward folks call it what they will. There's nothing fancy about what I'm feeling. I call it---I'm sick to death of this piss-ass weather, I can't take it no more and it's making me fucking crazy so I want to eat because that's what I do when I feel this way. This morning, I had a craving for a big chocolate chip cookie and a huge glass of full fat, thick, ice cold chocolate milk. This afternoon, I had fantasies about pasta with shrimp and artichokes braised in lemon wine sauce with a lovely white sangria in a frosted balloon wine glass. On the drive home, I almost pulled through the McDonald's Drive thru for a Big Mac and fries and maybe even an apple fritter and imagined eating it in my car right there in the parking lot with that special sauce oozing out of the sides of my mouth and ketchup dripping from heavily salted fries. While I cooked dinner, I hungered for a huge plate of creamy, luscious Macaroni and Cheese with extra cheese with a big, cold glass of diet coke and a big hot fudge sundae with double cherries on top. As I loaded the dishwasher, I wanted chocolate dipped strawberries, a big slice of very sharp cheese and a tall flute of bubbly champagne. As I watched American Idol, I wanted salty, rippled potatoe chips with french onion dip and a rootbeer float. And, now? I want a big, warm soft pretzel, a gin and tonic with two limes and a piece of coconut creme pie. The weather? You bet your sweet ass it's this fucking weather. There would no other reason on this planet why I would swear like a fucking truck driver, want to drink alcohol smack in the middle of the week and consider consuming 5,080 of unhealthy and completely empty calories in one day! It's the weather. God Damn IT! It is the weather. The weather......got it bitch?