OK, so it's exactly nine months until Christmas. Hmm. You're wondering why I'm talking about the zenith of winter when we just crossed over into spring.
Well, I guess the recent heat wave must have gotten to my head because, seeing folks tanning in their front yards as I run past them - myself dressed only in a tank top and shorts - in the middle of March has me all kerflooey.
Indeed, this strange burst of premature summer has spurred my thought process about many of the other "things that make you go hmm."
For instance, why is it always that you only need a safety pin when there's not one to be had in 14 square miles?
The other day, I spent six hours, 19 minutes and 12 seconds searching for one in the office after a co-worker innocently mentioned the need for it.
"Oh, I'm sure we've got a hundred floating around here somewhere. I know we had tons left after last summer's 5K run ..." I said, my voice trailing off as I disappeared into our supply closet.
Eighty-five photo frames, 42 t-shirts, 195 race bibs, 214 sign-up slips, 292 posters and 76 trombones later, I finally found it at the bottom of teeny-weeny box in the farthest corner of the most remote spot in the building ... a rusty old paperclip.
"What the?" I heard myself mutter as the other gals in the office gently slipped a straitjacket over my shoulders.
Hmm and hmpf!
For my buddy Nancy Hastings of Liberty, it is her PC which serves as the source of much head-scratching ire.
"Why does my computer only stop working when my boss tells me she needs something sent to her immediately?" she snarled.
Indeed, this little hiccup will always be compounded by the fact that your information technology support person will have never before seen the malady causing your ability to search, send and / or receive, or even spell-check a document.
It will, ergo, require your computer to be confiscated, sent back to the factory and re-conditioned if there's any hope of retaining all the information on your hard drive - including the report your boss wanted last week.
That's OK, you've been looking for a little extra time to spring clean your house, anyway.
Hmm and dang it.
And speaking of quality time, why is it always marred by peculiarity?
"My kids hadn't been sick in, literally, a year and a half, and then, boom! The night before we are supposed to leave for Disney World, they're both heaving up dinner all over the place," said Macy Woodford of Hubbard, explaining how the odd little flu bug that befell her house like a pox cost her family of four an extra $1,500 in airline ticket exchange fees.
Hmm and crud.
Oh well. I'm sure the trip was worth it ... and I'm equally certain that our white Easter will be a lovely one.
You don't think we're actually done with winter weather, do you?
Not to worry. Hmm is quite a delectable side dish for ham.
Kimerer is a Tribune Chronicle columnist. Contact her with aggravating anecdotes at firstname.lastname@example.org.