Oh, Winter. The symbol of purity and beauty of a thousand puppies. Every morning, for the next six or seven months, I shall wake up to you, walk in you and live in you. Now, stop being a little bitch and we can get along.
I live in Canada. It's currently November 13 and it is -23°C outside and snowing.
This weather generally required a hefty winter jacket, some gloves, a sexy hat, a scarf and some underlining for your pants. The problem with all that is that I spend most of my time inside the University. The lining in the pants get unbearably hot, the scarf, gloves are just annoyances and the jacket itself is so big and bulky you slap whoever is around you at time you take it off. Pair all of that with me having a small, rather full locker and you get one of the reasons I hate winter.
I come from a small town in eastern Canada where all people talk about is cars, motorcycles and snowboarding on this little mountain during the winter. I did none of these things. In a way, it was kind of a good thing. It meant that my friends were not asking me to do things with them in the awful outside weather.
Have you ever experienced cold so cold that you have a difficult time breathing? It generally happens around minus forty-five degree weather. I had to wait for my school bus in that weather for about 25 minutes because he was late. I swear I was a few minutes from getting frostbite on my toes or something. When I go outside, I don't want to feel like I'm deep-throating Frosty the Snowman's carrot, that's all I'm saying.
Sincerely and wholeheartedly,
K.
TL; DR: I wish winter had feelings so that when I peed on her, she felt bad.
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