In which I keep convincing myself it isn't spring

It's not. It's not it's not it's not it's not. But it's warm, and the snow is melting, and after all the equinox is coming up... No! It's not spring, I tell you!

But spring may account for some things. Spring may account for me not needing sweaters at work, or the real desire I have to just sit and look out the window. Spring may account for my frantic knitting before it gets too warm to really do much, and my desperate desire to get a snood knitted for Priest now that I have the pattern. Spring may account for Mike's restlessness and perusing of MLS listings. Spring may account for Priest cockroaching in our company (lying on his back with legs going in all directions. It's honestly the cutest thing ever), but that may just be because he's getting comfortable with us. It may account also for his newfound desire to actually get out of bed at 5:45 in the morning to go for a walk; he's actually following me downstairs now, not making me go back up to coerce him into coming down. Spring may also account for me being kind of itchy in my own skin.

Except it's not spring. This is Alberta. Spring and March do not go together in the same sentence. There is still a bite to the air, and not the friendly nibbles of spring. Except it's definitely a lot more muted than it was last week...

ARGH! It's NOT SPRING!!!!!!!

Yeah. I need a vacation. Again.