Sunflower

It sounds a little…hippie? flower child-ish? new age-y? pretentious? something…to compare myself to a sunflower, but I’m going to.  Because I love the sun.  Sunshine.  I don’t worship the sun in the I-must-be-tan-all-the-time way (I am very pale and I have come to (mostly) embrace it), but I like to be in warm sun patches.  Like a dog or a cat.  I follow the sun that way.  Like a sunflower!  Except sunflowers don’t move when the sunny patches move.  They just turn…okay, this is falling apart.  Mostly what I mean is that I’m much happier when the sun is shining.  And much MUCH happier when the sun is shining and it’s at least semi-warm outside.  (THAT’S how cold this winter has been: 54 degrees and super-windy counts as semi-warm.)  I don’t drift into depression in the cold and the dark (SAD is a thing, but I don’t think I have it, at least not in a serious way), but a sunny day can cause a shift in my mood that I didn’t even know it needed.  I’m sure that’s true of most people – I’m not special in any way here.  Who couldn’t love a sunny day?  Besides John.  I mean, he likes sunny days, but he’s the only person I know who prefers clouds and overcast days.  And he REALLY doesn’t like heavy, humid heat.  We could never live in Florida.  (This is not a problem for me – I don’t particularly want to live in Florida, either.  Visiting for a while, though…that’s okay.  Especially if Disney World is involved.  I would like to live in Disney World.  Because I am a pretty pretty princess.)

Hm.  I think I’m going to end all of my blog posts that way.  Anyway, I am sitting on my bed in the apartment, in a patch of sunlight, all windows open (to get rid of the smell of fajitas from last night), and I am very happy.  Also, I am a pretty pretty princess.