An Open Letter to Winter

Dear Winter,

Why you gotta be so cold?

You’re seriously like an ex-boyfriend. I remember you semi-fondly until you show up on my doorstep and test all that’s left of my patience.

Some of my animosity toward you is due to the harsh reality of growing up. I remember when a snow day was a magical experience: a day full of endless possibilities, full of games and glory, a day to live! A day where I could grab my shiny toboggan and glide down a hill, feeling weightless and free. I thought I could regain some of this magic when I started working at a school again. But, when you’re 26 and live with your parents, a snow day does not mean a day to rest or dream. It does not mean your dad is going to load you up in the car and head over to the local golf course. It means he is going to hand you a shovel and tell you you’re on your own.

I also remember when winter meant Christmas, and Christmas meant people would be cheerful and generous and I could skip about thinking, “Gosh, I’m blessed,” as I tore open presents under the tree. Now winter/Christmas means, “Crap, I forgot to get my brother’s roommate’s girlfriend’s hairdresser’s cousin a present this year. Everyone is gonna be so upset with me,” and, “Thanks for the socks.”

Perhaps it’s not you, winter. Perhaps it’s me.

But I kind of think it’s you, too.

Because even when snowy days and Christmas were awesome, they only made up about 3 of your days.

Because, also like an ex-boyfriend, you screw with our heads so much, there’s an actual disorder named for you. And its acronym is S.A.D. You make people S.A.D. Why do you like darkness so much? Do you think it makes you deep? I feel like if we personified the four seasons, you would be the guy who wears all black and writes haikus on a typewriter in the park.

You suffocate us, winter. You make it impossible for us to breathe fresh air without it feeling like we’ve been punched in the chest.

But my least favorite thing about you is that every day, for your entire duration, my co-workers walk into the office and inevitably say, “It’s so cold outside.” To which I am required to respond, “…yeah.” You create idle chit chat, winter, and for that I will never love you.

Sincerely,

Jillian

P.S. I probably don’t hate you that much. I just hated having to slip and slide my way to work today. Forgive me, winter. As far as weather goes, you probably top tsunamis.

 

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