Wednesday, April 3, 2013

I'm breaking up with you, winter.

Look winter. I wrote this beautiful moving piece some time ago about my last first snow. And I get it. You were moved. I'm a deep chick. I sometimes know how to flatter a body. But, damn it winter. It's spring now, I reset my clocks. I see tulips doing their best to stay above ground. It's bloody well time to pack it in, and take your drunk ass home. It's nothing personal, winter. You can come back next year and bluster and blow and make me turn up the collar of my coat. Because, honestly, buddy I' pretty sure that unless we get Florida or Arizona where we go next we're gonna see each other again.

I think snow is really very pretty, little dancing fairy flakes. I think ice is neat and nifty. But, seriously? Dude.  Go home. As it is you are going to have the mother of all hangovers after this binge. Take a few aspirins, eat something, and get some well deserved rest. It's time, Winter. It's time to go now.

Love (but really I'd love you more if you left)


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