Dear Old Man Winter

Dear Old Man Winter,

Your days are numbered. Very, very numbered.


You have harassed me in every possible way. When I attempted to travel three hours to have my first wedding dress fitting, I was thwarted by snowpocalypse. When I tried to navigate to work, you stubbornly intervened - for a week. When I want to go cavorting in short skirts and t-shirts, one look outside is all it took to make me want to burrow under 8 blankets with a heating pad.

Thanks alot. You are ruining my life.

But just you wait. I'll have vengeance yet. At the first sign of spring, I shall be cavorting about in short skirts and t-shirts. And there will be nothing you can do to stop me.

That two foot blizzard you so kindly sent my way will be a distant memory. The ankle-deep slush I had to walk through to get to my bus stop will be no more. Even the time you tried to kill me by that cleverly placed patch of ice will have faded from mind.

One day there will be sunshine, chirping birds, and little budding things. And there is nothing you can do about it.

Enjoy your short reign will you can. Your days are numbered, my friend.

So thankful for little things like seasons,
Andrea