And
suddenly it’s winter.
I swear,
this town doesn’t have four seasons, it only has two and I can never seem to be
happy with either. Sure, I can use the awful weather to my advantage but daily
life is a struggle when you’re wearing shorts and a tank top one day and a
parka the next.
I sometimes
wish I could move somewhere where the weather is a little more consistent. I’d
have a much more esthetically pleasing wardrobe, the headaches would be gone, I
wouldn’t be complaining about it now.
I’d be
complaining about something else but not the weather.
I complain about this every season but here’s why I think we
all do this. It’s one of the few things that people in a city have in common
with each other. It’s something that can bring people together: bitching about
the same things over and over.
Routines are a part of humanity, I’ve come to notice. Traditions
are connective and comforting. They also are predictable to a point where
someone could, say, stalk you for a few days, learn your routine and use it to
kill you.
For example.
I didn’t even go into work yesterday because of the fucking
snow. But, of course, we still had to work from home. God forbid, you actually
get some time away from work.
I will NOT get into a rant about western culture’s misunderstanding
of human decency and what’s important in life. It’s too cold for that.
The heat feels like it’s out – I know it’s not – but it’s
absolutely freezing. Like, gloves indoors levels of cold. I’m over it. I just
want to kill the people and drive safely home to a warm house. Is that too much
to ask for?
That’s all. Be warm. Stick to your routines because it makes
things easier for me. Stop fucking snowing!
As always, dear readers,
Stay Safe
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