It’s cliché to say and hyperbolic and patently untrue, but my God, this winter has felt longer and more soul-deadening than any winter ever before, in the history of Earth winters. I swore I wasn’t going to be one of those people already wishing for spring in the middle of December, and I more or less kept to my promise. But I can’t keep quiet anymore. I’m sick of it. Go. Just go.
I’m not ready to see hoodie weather evaporate completely, but I sure as shit am ready for my yard to stop looking so depressing. More than anything else, I long for a bedroom that isn’t automatically ice cold every night that it’s below 60 degrees outside.
What are those purple-and-white trees called? I love them and look forward to them every year. They’re a little late this year; usually they bloom in early January.
And I agree wholeheartedly. This winter sucked my soul out through my chattering teeth.