I'm only happy when it snows

There is a variety of mood disorder known colloquially as Seasonal Affective Disorder. In the DSM-IV it is actually not a separate disorder, but rather a specifier which can be tacked onto a diagnosis of Major Depressive Disorder or a major depressive episode in Bipolar Disorder. Basically this specifier is a fancy way of saying "the person becomes depressed when a particular season (usually fall or winter) begins."

I think I have reverse Seasonal Affective Disorder.

For the first twenty-five years of my life, I lived in places that had four seasons--one of these being cold, snowy winter. To be fair, I used to feel down fairly predictably from just before Thanksgiving through my birthday, which is a week and a half after Christmas. However, the most wintry weather tended not to arrive until a few weeks after my birthday, by which time I was already feeling much better.

I was a little nervous about moving to Northern California on account of the lack of seasons. "But we do have seasons here," Mrs. Gerbil pointed out. "We just only have two: wet and dry."

At first, the prospect of six straight months of sunshine seemed like a neat little novelty. I snickered when our neighbors complained about the "heat wave" that first summer; it was in the low 80's and about 10% humidity. (My definition of a heat wave is that it's got to be hot and humid.) But then I got tired of the sunshine. I got cranky, and I longed for a thunderstorm to improve my mood. None arrived.

When the rains started, I was pleased. Grey skies mean fall; and fall means winter's coming. But, of course, the rain never turned to freezing rain or snow, and I got cranky. I wanted some snow to cheer me up. Instead, the daffodils came up and the skies began to clear. I felt cheated. Spring had arrived, and I'd never gotten my winter! And the next twelve months were much the same.

Perhaps it says something about my personality that I love inclement weather. I'm a sucker for the pouring rain, thunderstorms, snow, and grey skies of all shades. I'm not keen on freezing rain or tornadoes; but otherwise, anything but constant sunshine floats my proverbial boat. Indeed, when I was two I drew a sun wearing a big ol' frowny face.

Last week the rains began. Mrs. Gerbil is a little cranky. She misses the sun. Me, I'll take what I can get.