March Madness

March Madness strikes again. No. I'm not talking about the NCAA tournament. I'm talking about the weather, of course. And my frame of mind. 'Mad' didn't even come close to what I felt when I looked out my window Saturday to find big, fat, fluffy, cold flakes falling on one of the last days of March--and this despite four weather forecasters assuring me that the snow would track south of us.

Right.

It's the Winter of My Discontent--The Sequel. And it sucks.

I want spring! And sunshine! And temperatures that let me wear T-shirts and capri pants and make me want to shave my legs again. I want to plant tomato plants upside down in my topsy turvy planters, grill a nice thick steak outside on the patio, take the chain saw to the dead tree in the back yard, and yes, even rake and bag leaves. But spring refuses to, well, spring!

I whined about the weather all day Saturday and into Sunday when I had to kick the thermostat up a notch to keep warm. It was either that or call and order one of those old lady snuggies from TV to wrap up in.

I whined Monday and Tuesday when I had to pull out the winter coat again.

And yesterday when the temperature was a balmy 32 degrees as I left for work, I whined some more. Things couldn't get worse.

Mid morning my cell phone began to vibrate. I checked my voice mail at lunch.

"I'm going to Tahiti. You want to go to Tahiti? Call me. We need to go to Tahiti."

Now, normally if I received a message like this on April Fool's Day I'd bet the farm it was a joke, but since the caller was a good friend of mine who's going through some challenging times--and who has been known to fly off somewhere fun and diverting on a moment's notice, I figured it was legit.

I stared outside the window at the wind whipping hats off men's heads and turning umbrellas inside out and sighed.

"Friggin' Tahiti." I muttered. "Tahiti. Can you believe it?"

"Excuse me?" The gentlemen next to me gave me a quizzical look.

I gave him a weak smile.

"My friend. She's going to Tahiti. Tahiti. Warm sand. Divine beaches. Drinks with tiny umbrellas that aren't inside out stuck in them. That Tahiti."

He suddenly developed a freakish interest in his tuna fish sandwich.

As I chewed my rabbit food lunch I pondered what it would feel like to be that spontaneous. To just decide you're flying off to some exotic locale (heck, flying off anywhere) and just doing it. But that's just not me. 'Spontaneous' is about the last word anyone would use to describe me. I'm somewhat anal about schedules and routines and planning ahead. Don't get me wrong. I've often wished I was one of those 'spur of the moment' people who pick up and pile out the door without prior planning. But I'm not.

If I was, I'd be on the phone to my friend telling her to 'count me in'. No April foolin'.

But I'm me. Good ol' predictable, (translate as boring) structured, level-headed, Bullet Hole. Someday I'm gonna surprise you all. Someday when there are no classes to finish coursework for, no lawmakers and judges to protect, no kids at home to ride herd on, no deadlines to ignore, er, meet--someday I'm going to do it. I'm going to unfold a map, close my eyes, and point to a spot, pack, and go.

What?

You don't believe me?

You think I'm deluding myself?

You just wait. One Thursday you'll click on the Killer Fiction blog to find a new (and less uptight) Bullet Hole blogging from some surprise destination. Just you wait.

Of course, with my luck I'll end up in some place like Podunk City, USA.

Oh well. At least I'll have broken my cycle of 'Stick in the Muditis' when it comes to spontaneity.

So, tell me. When was the last time you picked up and went someplace or did something on impulse? What did you do or where did you go? How'd it work out? Or, if you're like me, what do you wish you could do totally out of the blue?

Maybe I should start today and decide to do something today out of character and unexpected.
Something that deviates from my norm.

Hmmm. What could I do?

I've got it! Maybe I'll brush my teeth BEFORE I take my shower rather than afterwards.

Oh, brudder. I'm in worse shape than I thought.

Now where the heck IS that map????

~Bullet Hole~