About, winter is so over

For me, anyway, and I call tell you exactly when it happened: 3:45 p.m. on Monday, February 11. On Broadway. In New York City.
We Hoosiers had brought not just ourselves and our luggage to the city--we'd brought the coldest temperatures New Yorkers had seen this winter. Lucky us! Lucky them! No one thanked us, though.
After a day of seminars, our group of five took off walking from our hotel, also on Broadway, down that "Great White Way" to the Historic Ed Sullivan Theater. We were on standby to see the Letterman show being filmed, and had to be in front of the little souvenir shop by 3:30.
Three of our party were standby numbers 12, 13, and 14; another co-worker and I were 20 and 21. That did not bode well, I knew.
The street was alive with frozen New Yorkers; everyone in dark coats and scarves around their faces and quick steps. The temperature was in the teens, and the wind, funneled by those tall buildings, was more than brisk--we were walking Popsicles.
A frigid little group of Letterman wannabees were waiting when we arrived, and we chatted and took pictures as we waited. I lost the feeling in my nose and ears, having left my ear warmers in my room.
A few minutes passed, and a young woman with a clipboard came out of the shop; I crossed my fingers. We'd been hoping the cold had kept people away.
"I need numbers one through 14 to line up over here; get your ID out!" she ordered. "The rest of you I don't need!"
Crash. If I was cold before, I was frozen now. No Letterman for me -- no top 10 list, no Paul Shafer, no Dave. Just a long shivery disappointed walk back to the Marriott.
We'd walked about a block when it hit me: I was sick of winter. Sick of the cold, of the wind, of the potential for frostbite. I was ready for winter to be over, in Indiana, and in New York City. If I couldn't go to Letterman...I wanted it to at least be warm. I wanted to be able to enjoy the lights, the shows, the shops, the people. Instead, I just wanted to GET WARM.
NYC got worse before it got better, on our trip--the next day, while it was slightly warmer, it started snowing, and everything got slushy--later, it kind of sleeted, then got mixed, then just poured. Our flight home was delayed on Wednesday.
Winter's far from over, officially, but it's done for me...and anyway, I always celebrate March 1 as the beginning of meteorological spring. Only 11 days!
How about you? Are you done with winter?