The girls and I went for lunch this week. You may have heard it's a little cold here (try 8 degrees below 0). Before we left the office, we trundled ourselves up in the accoutrement's of winter--heavy wool coats, fur collars, hats, gloves, scarves and an extra layer of lip gloss. A girl can't be too careful, you know.

Exiting the building we linked arms to keep each other warm, forming a feminine force field. As we ambled down the street, we collectively stopped short in front of a store called (appropriately) "Shoegasm." Standing against the cruel slaps of bitter wind gusts, we gazed into the shiny confines of the window display. There playfully positioned and enticing were darling nautical wedge heels and quited ballet flats and seductive metallic ankle wrap sandals. Within seconds, we broke ranks and were in the store trying on the enchanting sirens of spring.

This is a sign. There always comes a point in the current season when you're ready to move to the next. I'm ready for spring. I've worn all my cute boots (even those 3-1/2 inch fuckers from Steve Madden that nearly killed me). My coats are all ready for storage. My overall skin hue is as white as Greenwich, Connecticut. Wearing three layers is way too confining. Getting a pedicure so my foot looks good only for my sweaty kickboxing class is not enough. It's time to breakout.

Alas, I do not dictate the weather. We need to ride this unsatisfactory pattern out a bit longer. Mother Nature, you tempestuous wretch, would it kill you to give us some snow since you want the thermostat so damn low? Bitch.

Well, the Mother is an unpredictable mistress, so I'll bide my time. In the interim, I am mentally counting days. In a short while I will be wearing a whisper of a skirt, bare legged and free, the only restriction a pair of featherweight sandals and a fresh pedicure. That's such a sweet feeling on a warm day.

Mmmm. Sorry, I'm dwelling on that for a minute. Indulge me.

Any smart girl does some pre-planning. All the store windows are featuring their sumptuous spring clothes and as I schlep to work in sub zero winds, I stop and peer in the odd window at the wonderful spring clothes that I long to wear. I confess my weakness these days is Club Monaco. They have a strapless trench dress that makes me weak. A breathtaking OpArt halter dress that I'm convinced would look dynamite on me. Beautiful ankle wrap sandals and chic shirt dresses. Hello. Here's my paycheck. Give me spring already.

At least the clocks are moving ahead this weekend. That's a start.