Now it makes sense

Having grown up and lived in the deep South my entire life until last August, I never really understood what real seasons were. In the South, there's hot and humid, and then there's roughly three weeks of cold weather, during which, it could still conceivably be in the 70s in the middle of January.
Then, I moved to Philadelphia, and I now understand what exactly spring fever and Seasonal Affective Disorder are all about.
In my estimation, there have been about six days since the middle of January that it's been above 45 degrees. The sad thing about that is that I've gotten so used to the cold, that when it's in the 40s, as long as the sun is out, I think it's warm. There's something wrong with that on so many levels.
Yesterday, it was sunny and 54, and I swear, I almost did a little dance. Everyone at my office looked at me like I was an alien for wearing a short-sleeved shirt, and I said, "I'm willing spring to stay. You have to be nice to it, or it will go away." Then they really looked at me like an alien, but clearly didn't take my advice to heart, because, today, it's raining and cold, and it sucks.
I have to say that autumn here was amazing. I actually got to see the leaves change; in fact, I was in Harrisburg when they really started, and it was beautiful. So, I did get to experience about two and a half months of actual fall, which I've never done before, and it made me feel good about choosing to leave in a place with seasons.
That was before winter. I understand so much now. I understand why people in Philadelphia are a little cranky and also, why they're kinda fat.
When all you can comfortably do for almost three months is hibernate in your house or local pub and eat assorted fried foods, you're gonna put on the pounds.
Of course, this doesn't explain at all why Southerners are fat and consume so much fried food, but we won't concern ourselves with that right now.
I'm no better. This summer, I was all about drinking water and finally not minding walking everywhere, and I was in better shape than I've ever been.
Umm..yeah. I haven't actually gained any weight back, but I think nothing of picking up breakfast from McDonald's just because I'm cold and cranky, and I want to eat immediately, rather than making the oatmeal that takes a whole two minutes and having a healthy breakfast.
I vow, here and now, to start going to the gym and rebelling against the Philadelphia winter blahs. For one thing, hopefully, on March 23, the winter is almost gone, but secondly, I refuse to give in to the laziness that used to consume me in Mississippi.
As God is my witness, I will never wear a size 14 again. But I still may have to enjoy the occasional contraband Philly cheesesteak. I'm not a machine, for God's sake.