Please stop conspiring to drive me mad. For you shall surely win.
Yes. Soon, you will crush my sanity like an overripe canteloupe, and when I go gibbering to the madhouse, wrapped in rags and possibly my own filth, I shall hear your heartless laughter in the incessant howling of the wind.
First, you decided to play limbo with the thermometer. Which led to the shattered pipe in my kitchen. So that was awesome. But I tried to keep a good attitude about the whole thing. Just one of the joys of home ownership, right? And I feel sort of lucky to own a home even if it occasionally requires emergency plumbing services and a big mop. So I didn’t take it personally.
(By the way, the kitchen is looking good again. One more coat of paint and it’ll be better than it was before you had your, well, episode. I’m thinking of a warmer color this time around.)
And then early spring rolled around. Now I’ll admit that after the past few years I have developed a bad attitude about March. I’m partially at fault for our escalating enmity; I’ll admit it. I cringe when I see March coming. Because March means the goddamned wind.
You make it blow for weeks upon weeks. And it’s not a nice soothing wind. You don’t give us a refreshing, bracing wind. You give us cold gale-force gusts for days and days on end. The constant howling and gusting becomes a backdrop to everything I do, every thought I have. Cold eddies of meteorological malice snake into my dreams, circumscribe my hopes. Seriously—sometimes I feel like I’m trapped in an episode of Northern Exposure. But rather than creaking thawing ice up in the mountains driving me crazy, it’s the incessant wind. So every year I can’t wait for early April and the return of my sanity.
Except this year. When the winds didn’t stop. They blew straight through April.
Why, weather? Why must you do this?
But again, I tried to keep a positive attitude about the whole thing. Ha ha ha, there goes my recycling bin again. Ha ha ha, there go the notecards from that book I was plotting. Ha ha ha, there go my dead Aspen trees (thanks for killing those, by the way) getting read to blow over into the neighbors’ yard.
(Hey, weather: your fight is with me, apparently. Don’t take it out on the neighbors, okay? They’re nice. They put up with me.)
But then you did it. You went to far.
Yeah, you know what I’m talking about. This would be the little business of me having to scrape the snow off a car yesterday morning. That would be yesterday as in THE FIRST OF MAY. As in, my peach tree was just pushing out new leaves when you decided it would be cool to have subfreezing temperatures and snow in May.