Spring Fever

By Patti Parish-Kaminski, Publisher

Escaping to where Spring hasn’t sprung with provisions in tow.

There are those who roll their eyes at the concept of Spring Fever.  They believe it’s a mythical state, essentially a non-state if you will.  Well, I’m here to tell all of the nay sayers, this Spring Fever thing is not only real, it is an ailment, and I, for one, am suffering in many forms and incarnations from this particular affliction.

For we believers, the symptoms of Spring Fever may include, but is not limited to, the following:  moodiness, physical or behavioral changes, particularly restlessness, laziness and amorousness.  I can check off all of those boxes, except maybe for the amorous category, unfortunately for Mr. Kaminski.  But in hindsight, Kassidi was born in November, and if you do the math, well, there might be something to that after all.

But this particular Spring, love is not in the air, because I’m not loving anything right now. I am overly moody, because I have no idea on the daily how to dress.  I’m hot, I’m cold, I’m wind-blown, I’m rained on, I’m having multiple bad hair days and pollen is on every dang surface outside.  The adjectives that describe my nose and eyes sound like the cousins of the seven dwarfs:  Droopy, Drippy, Sneezy, Rosy and Itchy.  It’s not a good look for me.

I am beyond restless.  I am unsettled.  I am downright disturbed waking up at 5 am with thoughts and ideas, and they’re not good ones. I’m making lists of things that need to be done, and they’re not just lists for me.  Oh, no, everybody gets a list – Mr. Kaminski, the kids, my beloved Sandra, the accountant, my team, Mother, Lisa Ann, Michelle at Mercedes, the wine guy at Kroger – there’s even an unassigned list of random items that once I procure a body to fulfill that particular need, their list will be right there waiting on them. Now that’s beyond preparedness. This goes on for about an hour every morning.  It’s maddening.

Lazy, I’m not, but this Spring Fever situation does have me a bit distracted.  My laser focus is a bit off center, high and to the right. That’s quite unsettling for a someone who’s always dead-on target.

I’m convinced I have it, and I’m equally convinced it’s got to stop, and now is not soon enough.  So just how is one to battle this seasonal sickness?  Is there a shot?  A pill?  A home remedy?

A deep dive into remedies for this situation yielded quite unsatisfactory results.  Go outside and get fresh air was one recommendation.  Really?  Where everything that is interfering with my ability to breathe lives?  Limit your alcohol intake was another piece of sage advice.  I’m already moody, and the answer is to take away my wine?  Engage in Spring cleaning was more words of wisdom.  I don’t clean when I feel well.  Why on earth would I clean when I’m struggling with this feverish fiend?

I finally texted DeeDee.  She would know what to do.  After all, she went to medical school.  Sure, it was to learn how to deliver babies and administer pap smears, but a doctor is a doctor in a pinch.  Her response?  “Get moving, preferably outside?”  Clearly, she didn’t understand the gravity of the situation, or she was delivering twins.

Left to my own devices, I’m concocting my own remedy for this Spring Fever foe.  I’m donning a hat to hide my hair, grabbing a bottle of wine and heading West where Spring hasn’t yet sprung to escape the madness.  Yep, I can leave this monster malady behind, and hopefully by the time I get back, Spring will be like Elvis:  It will have left the building.  See y’all next week – on the porch!


Patti Parish-Kaminski

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