Groundhog Day: A new beginning

Look, I don't mean to keep writing about Groundhog Day over and over again. It is the most insignificant of holidays. But somehow each day I wake up and find myself writing on it yet again. I wake up. Sonny and Cher are playing. I smash the clock radio. And I write about Groundhog Day.

The first time I wrote ahead of time about Groundhog Day. Since it had been opressively cloudy for months I felt secure in assuming that the groundhog would not see his or her shadow and that Winter would, accordingly, end soon. This somehow led to the Sun bursting out on Groundhog Day morning in a resplendent dazzle of Winter light, meaning the groundhog did see a shadow, and thus Winter was slated to continue for many weeks. I pronounced this okay because Winter is so pretty in the Sun. Of course, no sooner had I done this than the sky immediately covered in clouds again, like as if plastered over by an untalented, color-hating stucco craftsman. If you can call that craftsmanship.

So I thought "Great. Back to the drawing board." And I was condemned to write once more about Groundhog Day. And as I sat down to write my latest revision of my purgatorial Groundhog Day saga the clouds cleared once again. And there, what should have been obvious all along, was suddenly revealed to me:

I can control the weather with what I write!