Aren't we all under the weather?

West Michigan is known for its spastic weather. Known, at least, within West Michigan. Three years ago, as a young freshman hailing (sort of) from the thick red clay and saturating humidity of North Georgia, I was completely unprepared for the mood swings of a temperamental Mother Nature.

The past few weeks have given us sun, snow, rain, hail, thunderstorms, tornado warnings, wind, giving both body and wardrobe an aching whiplash. One day, I pull on my daisy-covered rain boots, the next my hat and gloves, and the next we're opening the patio door for some refreshingly sweet air. And as I fight headache after headache with caffeine, heating pads, Excedrin, and naps, I am humbled (and slightly annoyed) by the power weather holds over me. A single sunny day after months of gray can send me into a tizzy of energy and optimism, while a coming storm can turn me into an hurting, groggy beast of a being.

While I'm sure there is some medical explanation for my responses to the changes in barometric pressure and whatnot, I enjoy my bizarre connection to nature. Because even when I am overloaded with turmoil and stress, wishing that I didn't have to stare at my computer screen for another second, it reminds me to look outside.