Okay, anyone who knows me, knows that I am FAR from normal. That’s right. And I enjoy being not normal. Usually.

Though, I think, I might have just reached a newer kind of weird.

I’ve long been beyond pleased when it rains. I just love it. I’m happy and thrilled, and hopeful. To me, it’s like pure Joy inside. I feel the sense of clean it brings, especially in the Spring, by far my favoritist season. I love the sound of it, it’s so comforting to me, it’s relaxing and pure. I love the thunderstorms that sometimes accompany it. I just love it. I just feel everything growing, and it makes me happy. Warm and Fuzzy.

But, I HATE winter. I hate the snow, I hate the cold. I DETEST a Canadian winter. Now, this is the weird part. Having said just what I did, I discovered this to also be true: I love the sleety, light snow, almost rainlike weather we had just last week. It made me happy. It was just the right amount of cold, rain and snow….. I was thrilled. Everyone bitched, and I was all like, no, for real, this is great. So why do I like it when I hate winter. I mean, I HATE winter. But, I love that half rain-snow combo when it just leaves the concrete wet. Maybe it’s the clean aspect. I love nature, I grew up in the mountains.

I wonder why though, I am the happiest when the weather is like that. I love the sun, but hate it when it’s over 30 Celsius as it gets now in the summer, but, I love the rain. The moss that grows on the north side of the trees, the green in the spring, the wet of the rain, the cool air. I LOVE the MISTY rain. Just adore it.

I suppose that’s why I am comfortable with Chaotic Melancholy. It really is who I am.