It's a joke here, the weather I mean. It's never as simple as breaking the ice in the elevator and commenting on the current condition. "Great sun this morning, eh?" "Not up town!" Right. So you can either launch into your "I'm new here but these microclimates sure are bizzare" spiel or just stick with the ever popular, "How 'bout them Giants?"
The day we moved into our apartment, the sun streamed through our sliding glass balcony doors and illuminated our view of the ballpark. For the rest of the weekend, I was deceived. This isn't so bad, I thought, I must live on the sunny side of the city.
I was so, so deceived. On Monday morning the sun took a vacay to the Peninsula. I clutched my trench coat, ate mostly soup and generally was tempted to despair, declaring to Mr. Palindrome, "If I don't see the sun one more day, you're going to have to take me to east Bay for dinner so I can be sure it's still in the sky." The silver lining to this dark, grey fog was breaking in my new teal wellies. Teal and sunshine - I was trying to give the weather momentum through my wardrobe color choices. Didn't work.
After taking the express elevator to my floor, I would gloomily trudge by this view on my way to refill my bottomless coffee mug. I sat in my office hopeful that the next trip would reveal a parting of the clouds. No such luck.
Until this week! Look at that! You can see the bridge! The east bay and a sail boat! Heck, you can see the building next door!
The microclimates continue to tease and manipulate me into all sorts of weather related purchases (cardigans? why don't mind if I get one in every color). I continue to mope during stretches of fog. But I think every day I'm here, I get closer to being a legit San Fran dweller. I always bring a coat now. I also say things like, "You couldn't see it this morning through the fog, but this view sure makes it worth it!"