Winter has taken things to a new low this week, with two days of ice, increasingly frigid temperatures, and overnight lows headed toward the single digits. I am getting close to being over it: walking like a penguin on the ice, the heavy coats, the scarves, the mittens, the hats, the constant vigilance to ensure that no skin is exposed. Even worse is the tiresome part of each morning when I must tug on tights. If Winter were a middle schooler, we’d be having a conversation about making an effort to get along. I’d be gently explaining to Winter that it’s unfair, but his scowls and unkempt, dirty presence might be adding to his current status as the least popular season. Consider this:
Seriously, Winter, this is no way to make friends.
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