Cold and Gray
11:05 a.m. on November 30, 2004
I never drank coffee before moving to Seattle 9 years ago, but before I finished my second winter here, I was sucking down double tall latte’s as if my life depended on it. I am one of those transplants from California that could be heard saying in a dreamy, far-away voice: “I love the rain”. I do love the rain (they don’t call me cold and gray for nothing), but I am also very realistic as to why this is the suicide capital of the world. The daily 19 hours of darkness will do a number on you, no matter how much you say you love it.

They do try to balance out the everlasting darkness by putting up the holiday lights as early as possible. Every tree lining the street is sprinkled with twinkling lights to fill you with that warm glow that will make you forget that it is pitch dark by 3:00 pm. It is no surprise that Starbucks was founded in Seattle and that there is a coffee shop every five feet; it is lifeblood for some, joy juice for others.

Now that I am entering my 9th winter here, I only need one thick cup of coffee in the morning to get me out of bed, but if I were allowed to, I would hibernate until spring.






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