Dear Snow, It’s Not Me, It’s You


Dear Snow,

We’ve seen far too much of each other this year.

At first, it was magical, watching you turn the landscape into a winter wonderland as your flakes drifted this way and that, dancing in the air as they fell from the heavy clouds drifting lazily overhead.

Then, you insisted on dropping by every week, unannounced.Sometimes, you stopped by multiple times  and overstayed your welcome, dragging your crap with you.

Let’s talk about your buddies Frigid and Ice. Excessive cold temperatures and wintry mixes? As if excessive amounts of your crap isn’t enough to deal with? What the hell is up with dragging these idiots with you? They’re not making you look good.

You’ve littered on the lawn, the deck, the roof, the cars… you don’t pick up after yourself and you’re making it damn near impossible to go out anywhere because all you wanna do is lay around and watch Netflix whilst drinking hot cocoa.

I’m out of things to watch, I’m sick of chocolate, and quite frankly, I don’t appreciate the way your buddy Ice makes cars spin out of control. He’s a real dick, by the way. Plus, you’re getting grey and dingy around the edges.

Not to mention Frigid has the neighbors convinced they need to run their vehicles for at least 30 minutes before they go anywhere.

You gotta go. It’s over.

It’s you, not me.

I yearn for colour. For the green of grass, the purple and yellow buds of spring, the chirps of new birds, the blue sky embracing a warmer temperature.

I can’t take any more of these “looks like it’s warm outside but OH MY GOD WHY DOES THE AIR HURT MY FACE” days, Snow. I just can’t.

I am tired of looking outside at a pile of your crap higher than the windowsill. I’d like to be able to see the curbs again and not have to pull halfway out into the road just to see what the hell is around the bend thanks to the giant pile of your crap at the end of the neighborhood road.

I AM TIRED OF BEING STUCK AT HOME AND I’M SLOWLY GOING MAD.

Stop sending your fluffy magical flakes to me. They will not win me back. I’m done.

Let it go, Snow, let it go.

This is not Frozen, you are not Elsa, and Spring WILL come. The Groundhog said so.

Take your buddies Frigid and Ice with you.

All three of you are hereby evicted in favor of Warmth, Sunshine, Sanity, and GREEN GRASS.

Love, Me

PS. If you show up here again? I’m getting the flame thrower. Or catching a flight to Jamaica where I’ll stay until Spring. Who’s coming with me?

 

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