Around this time of year, certain things happen to provide evidence that spring is on the way. Among them: Girl Scout cookies (nom), Cadbury eggs (also nom), cherry and plum blossoms.
Indeed, Tuesday is officially the first day of spring.
And yet...there was FUCKING SNOW last week. Yes, this looks pretty for about a minute, until I get on the freeway and no one can drive in it and my half-hour commute turns into a 90-minute commute. And both of my colleagues live 5 minutes away.
And it is supposed to fucking snow today. And yes, I feel very entitled using the word fuck because, well, what the fuck?!
What the hell? My relatives in Illinois tell me it is IN THE 80s!
I don't need it to be in the 80s. I just want a little compromise here.
I mean, the Easter bunny is going to skip town at this rate.
I'm going on strike. I officially refuse to recognize the weather until it behaves.
Apparently I'm not the only one who feels this way, because yesterday (which got up to a balmy 45 degrees) I saw people wearing shorts. Many people. It made me cold just looking at them.
I'm not going that far. I'll just be here doing a warm weather dance.