Dear Weather,
It is March 20th. According to science, it is the first day of spring. Yet, as I gaze out my bedroom window, instead of seeing light jackets and sunshine and daffodils, I see slate grey skies and snowflakes. I understand that humans have fucked up the earth irreparably. I listen to NPR occasionally and know enough about some things to understand that climate change is real. But listen — this isn’t cute. We’ve had a long winter. Yes, it was like, almost 60 degrees on December 25th. That was a nice present. It felt fun and also very wrong to stand outside on Christmas morning clad only in a fall coat, not realizing the real shit was just around the corner.
It’s been a really weird winter. Sometimes it was warm when I thought it would be cold. For the entire month of February, it was colder in New York than places that are basically big blocks of ice, like Alaska. I was grateful not to live in Boston, as those poor souls saw over 100 inches of snow and were basically reduced to a winter of self-imposed shut-in behavior. The cold, you see, gets into your bones after a while, and, yeah, it seems shitty every year, like summer will never, ever arrive. But there is something about the indignity of snowflakes barreling down from the sky at a rapid diagonal is extra lame today, the first day of spring, that is really chapping my hide.
It’s not that winter doesn’t have its perks. After a punishing summer, full of hazy days and swamp ass, it’s a relief when there’s a crispness in the air. Fall is great. The transitional periods between the most extreme seasons are the real reward for our suffering . Leather jacket weather is the best kind of weather, and I know that it’s silly to call anything “spring” smack in the middle of March, one of the worst months of all time, but come on, dude. SNOW?! ARE YOU SERIOUS? At this rate, we’re going to go straight from winter to summer. When will I be able to wear all the lightly-layered outfits I had planned?!
I’m not trying to put baby in a corner by telling you what to do. The number one rule of life is that you can’t control the weather, so I would never try to come for you like that, but this is just mean. Get it out of your system today, please. I know this is punishment for the amount of times I’ve yelled to a boiling hot sun to get the fuck out of my face, so I’m sorry about all that. Let’s clear the air. Make spring happen, soon.
Love and vibes of forgiveness,
Megan
