Dealing with snowstorm #1818 this winter. It's a strange feeling to despise snow, to feel pain as you watch it fall, anxiety creeping in the whiter it gets, to see it's white beauty juxtaposed against the black grimace and scorn of my being. Fop off, snow! You're not wanted round here! We experienced temper tantrum #2543 from Ruth yesterday as yet another day passed this winter where outside was not an option. Our flowers are happy though. Maybe people will mistakingly perceive me through the veil of the flowers' joy and not realize I have a black soul.
I exaggerate. Kind of.