I woke Sunday morning to an unseasonably warm and clingy weather pattern doing it's best to smother me. By noon it had transformed into the first really wintery feeling day we've had this season.
It wasn't bitter cold, but it was cold enough to remind me that we're overdue for our first snow.
I guess what made it feel so wintery was the temperature added to the sky being drained of color by the clouds. Mix in a measure of branches denuded of leaves and you've got the recipe for the possibility of depression washing over me.
I was perversely relieved when it started raining. At least the rain and it's few impotent little claps of thunder didn't look like winter.
But it made darkness fall way too early. I had been watching football without being in view of the clock. I thought it must be getting close to sundown, judging from the gathering black outside my window. I got up and looked at the time. It was 2:30 in the afternoon.
When halftime of the Sunday Night Football game rolled around, it felt like I'd been awake for days.
God I hate this time of year.