I am so tired of being inside. I am tired of boots and of coats and of a feeling of dread mixed with a feeling of doom that goes along with consulting The Weather Network app. I, a person who usually hates summer and joy, wants this winter and its clouds and storms and wind to end. I want the option of wearing a jacket. I want to wear short sleeves. I want to look outside and feel motivated to do anything other than curse anyone who’s ever wronged me; to think “What should I do today?” instead of counting down until I can go to sleep. I want to live, not just survive. And if you don’t feel the same way, I don’t trust you, and I think you’re bad.
Because this winter, in a word (or two), has been The Worst. And since it shows absolutely no signs of letting up whatsoever, it’s forced me to reconcile that it is the direct result of something we’ve done. What did we do to deserve this? My theories are below.
I personally talked about how much I hate summer
I have to take some responsibility for all of this. We know I hate summer. We know I’ve talked shit. And, since we also know I’m quite powerful, the odds are high that I summoned this winter and had no idea. Every enthusiastic tweet about outerwear I’ve written has contributed to every grey, cold, terrible day. So yes: I brought this all upon us. I didn’t think I could, but I was obviously wrong, and now we are all suffering. I apologize, but also: beware my wrath.
You and your friends walked three across on the sidewalk or at the mall
If you did this, the weekend’s ice storm is your fault. Because honestly, what’s your problem? Why can’t you just walk two across and then one person behind or in front? We’re adults. Who is this for? It’s winter, you monster. Trudging down the street in slush is terrible enough as it is, but now you’ve made everyone avoid slush and avoid you as you and your friends recreate the “Pass That Dutch” scene from Mean Girls. The sky saw this, and was angered. I hope you’re happy. I hope you feel cool. You’re not, and I hate you.
You and your partner wouldn’t stop holding hands while walking down the sidewalk
And then there’s you. You, who believes that “never let go” is less a Titanic quote and more a reasonable way to navigate the world despite 99% of the population just trying to move themselves from one location to another with maybe three inches of personal space to exist in (on a good day). And, like, we get it: you’re in a relationship. This is great news for you. Everyone is stoked. But if you eyed a group of people and thought, “Nah, they need to see that I’m in love” and clutched your person’s hand even tighter, each of the fallen branches on my parents’ front lawn is your fault. Pieces of their tree would rather fall to their demise than try to walk around you one more time during rush hour, and truly: they are correct.
You @-replied someone, correcting their grammar or trying to one-up their joke
And as a result, the facial expression of each falling ice crystal was that of Rihanna’s when she rolled up her car window in complete disgust.
Some of us got too psyched about that day it was 12 degrees and we looked desperate
So okay, let’s switch gears: last week, it was kind of warm out. It wasn’t, like, terrible. And we all got excited. We didn’t wear enough layers, we Instagrammed like it was the park on a July afternoon (a thing I hate, and a sentiment I will not take back), and we began saying stupid things like “Summer is here!” or “Spring has sprung!”
And the world laughed. It laughed at our footwear and it laughed at our iced coffees. It laughed hard, and long, and at this point, I believe it laughed hardest at me, specifically. Suddenly, we were all our 15-year-old selves calling our crushes despite never having been told to, and after trying a few other phone numbers with their last name thanks to the abundance of “so-and-so”s in the phone book. (A painful memory, but I truly believed it made me seem “forward” like Samantha Jones.) And, like the so-and-so in question, spring left. It ignored us and told winter to make itself at home, because woof: take a hint, us. And now here we are. I am watching it downpour on ice-covered snow and I’ve just realized I packed away all my boots.
I deserve this. I did this to us.
You haven’t watched any of the TV shows I told you to watch
Because if this is the case, it’s you. You deserve this. You did this to us. It’s been a long, cold, dark, tunnel of doom for the last 34 months. And the fact that you couldn’t make time for six hours of The Marvellous Mrs. Maisel is egregious. I hope you’re happy. I bet you didn’t watch The Crown, either.
Unbelievable. You have one week left to right this wrong.