Dear Mother Nature,
I’m a survivor. Your latest attempt to ruin my week has been thwarted. Snowmen attacks, crazed drivers who like to wave with their middle finger because I’m driving slow, icy roads, and dogs with snow balls hanging from their fur (which they like to shake off on my lap) didn’t stop me. It’s Friday, and it’s almost time for the weekend to start.
And yet I wonder, don’t you ever get tired of making my commutes twice as long, or snowing on my parade? You had all Christmas break to dump piles of your glittery, celestial flakes on my head. Two whole weeks, where I sat at home, nestled by the Christmas tree with nowhere to go. But NO, you wait until I get back to work to wreak havoc, and vomit your wintry mix on the roads. You’ve made every insane driver on the road my nemesis. People who drive too fast, and honk because I don’t want to drive 100 mph on ice. Or they drive too slow, really, 20 mph on the highway and me stepping on the brakes every two seconds to keep from becoming a part of the exhaust system of the car in front of me does not help my nerves. I see what you’re up to, Mother Nature. You and the weatherman (curses).
I might forgive you, if you give us a break here. Like, only one more snowstorm this season? Okay, I thought as much. Sigh. What’s that? Another storm, next week? Just for me?
Did I mention, I hate winter driving? Perhaps, Mother Nature, you should run more of a democracy and let the people vote on what kind of weather they want. Crisp autumn days, apple cider, scary movies. Ahh, I could handle that. Summer sun, feathery warm breezes and lounging by the pool with a book—definitely more my thing. Even better, Spring, snow melt, green grass. Did I mention no more snow?
What’s that? You don’t care what I want? And you hope my house turns into a snow cone? Well, Mother Nature you don’t have to be so snotty. See if I EVER write you a letter again.
Your Arch Nemesis,