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Photo by Sam O. Bscure

Winter has come, my children.

The air has taken on a chill that can slip through even the smallest of cracks between windows and sills and doors. Snow is floating gently to the ground, glinting in the weak winter sunlight that lasts for only a few precious hours each day. The trees stand as bare skeletons, bony limbs reaching to the sky in vain. The gleeful shouts of children fill the silence as they toss handfuls of snow and attempt to build snowmen.

Ah, yes. Winter. What a beautiful time of year.

That is, until you remember that with such a wintery wonderland, there also comes the embodiment of all things terrible.

My nose is running. My toes are cold. My fingers are cold. My ears are cold. My heart is nothing more than a chunk of ice, although that has nothing to do with the season.

On top of that, all knowledge of proper driving technique was forgotten the moment the first snowflake fell. And, as a person who walks most places, I am quite terrified.

And, let’s not forget that as the youngest person in my household, I am responsible for the shoveling of this frozen joy-hating water from our sidewalk. Along with the sidewalks of our neighbors, because I have to uphold my false image of being a pleasant and respectful young lady.

I’d also like to point out that I am not alone in my unhappiness. The dear and derpy Jarvis is also quite unsatisfied with these conditions. No longer does he eagerly romp to the door in hopes of being sent out to frolic in the yard. Now he attempts to hide, employing all objects large enough for his giant body to slink behind or under. Of course, his methods are rarely successful as he hasn’t truly mastered the art, and in the end he still finds himself tossed out into the cold.

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Look at that face, that pathetic little face, pleading as I laugh at him from where I stand in my wool socks and ten million sweaters. That’s what you get for eating my cupcake last week, punk.

Some of you, the eternal optimists, may consider my feelings for winter to be uncalled for or extreme.

Winter isn’t all bad, you say. Fuzzy socks! Warm coffee! Hot cocoa! Crackling fires and family! Cozy blankets and movies! Sledding! Comfy sweaters! Yaaaaaaay!

And to you, there is only one thing I would like to say.

No.

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