March: comes in like a lion, goes out like Poseidon on a five-week bender.

Rain. Rain. More rain. Right now it’s just cloudy, although the forecast says “Rain” when it doesn’t say “Thunderstorms.” It says this, in fact, for the next two weeks.

I’m one of those Seasonal Affective Disorder people. I don’t want to do anything when it’s wet and cold like this for weeks on end. We’ve been home sick and we’ve been home recuperating. My left jaw still hurts from the surgery. I think it may hurt a little from the dampness too.

The ground is full up with water — our front lawn is damp and springy, except at the bottom of the slope, where it’s a big puddle. I think I’ve been running outdoors once, maybe twice in the past month, and most of the trail runs we would normally hit are out of the question. I’m not currently feeling hardcore enough these days to go out in the drizzle, let alone anything stronger. Getting back into it takes time, and as Rob says, when the weather gets better we’ll be able to do lots more runs.

When the weather gets better. I’m really hoping it’s soon.

I don’t know where these storms are coming from. Hopefully they’re passing over the Sierras so we have a lot of snow packed up there. California with rain is not that much fun; California without rain is much, much less fun.

I had oral surgery this morning: a graft taken from the roof of my mouth and sewn onto my gum line. It was less fun than it sounds, although I did get a prescription for Vicodin out of it. (What can I say? I hear about the cool Hollywood drugs and want to try them, at least when it’s medically necessary.)

Between not wanting to touch my palate with my tongue, and not moving my left cheek (to avoid moving the sutures), I can barely move my mouth. I sound like Lili von Shtupp, from Blazing Saddles. Needless to say, my kids are paying me no mind, except to say, “Mom, why do you sound so funny?”