The only conceivable justification for my current apartment is the view. Which I do adore. Except, when the weather is windy and rainy outside, you get to see it in all its ugly dysplendor. That can actually be quite fun to watch when you are staying in anyway. And, when you must go up to the office then at least you’ve got a full view to prepare for what the reality is. When you are in-between—say, you really feel you should go up to campus, although it’s hard to spell out precisely why you feel that way—it’s a great promoter of precipitation-borne procrastination.
I’ve had, in my life, a couple of opportunities to be at great universities located in places that do not have winter. As I was contemplating these possibilities, I remember thinking, “They don’t have winter.” With a kind of wonder, as if I was contemplating a place where all the parking meters were made of peppermint sticks. “They don’t have winter.”
When I tell people how I really don’t like winter, a common response is “Didn’t you grow up in Iowa? You’re used to it.” In my drama-queen mind, this is exactly equivalent to having somebody who is getting picked on by their co-workers, and who you know got picked on a lot as a child, and telling them, “C’mon? You’re used to it.” I didn’t like winter then, I don’t like winter now.
So, yes, as the post-title says, I knew in principle there were going to be days like this, and I signed up for this place anyway. Although: I didn’t know it was going to be so windy! Sure, you think, how can somebody move to Chicago and not expect it to be windy? It’s The Windy City. I believed all those trivia nerds who say “the Windy City” nickname was not about weather at all but about the city’s politicians. (Also, as an added bonus, my apartment has these alley-like corridors on both sides of it, which creates this strange atmospheric effect where it seems to be like 25-50% more windy right in front of my apartment than a half a block down the street in either direction.)