Everything is SO hard in the winter time. It’s impossible to even WANT to leave the house. It’s cold and you’re wading through amazing, astronomically high and thick drifts of snow that when examined from even your window, seem like they will NEVER be able to melt when the glories of summer begin to set in.
When you get up the morning, it’s dark outside, and gloomy and cold. When you leave work in the evening, the sun is setting in the cold, icy blue way that it sets between October and April. When you walk around, your face burns, your eyelashes freeze, your scarf develops that frosty damp film from your smoky, visible breath. Snow glitters and sends shivers down your spine. Cars spin out of control, or else you have to dig them out of their parking stalls, just to go out and get groceries. Ploughing never occurs soon enough to alleviate the pain in the ass that is forever winter time. It’s hard to live.
I’m looking out the window and it’s still snowing. It keeps snowing, and it won’t stop snowing and there are drifts and rooftop piles and covered roadways and covered cars and people wandering around looking frustrated, freezing and trapped. When it’s like this outside, nobody wants to do anything. It’s an unfair burden that must be carried and in a sense, it is a badge of honour to ‘make it’ through winter’s furious, angry, annoying storm of white cold bullshit.
I hate winter. I’m counting down the days until warmth returns.