I stopped wearing my coat, even though I shivered all the way from my car to campus. I tore all the draft-preventing plastic from our windows, even though I could feel the wind come through the closed window and kiss my neck. I cooed at the little green sprouts by our doorstep, even though they haven't blossomed yet.
My reasoning was this: If I ceased lending credibility to winter, it would get its feelings hurt, realize its goose was cooked, and split.
But it didn't. It hasn't snowed again or anything. And the weather has been decent-er, sometimes even lovely, but where the Sam Hill (Hi, Sam!) are the flowers, the blossoms, the bright pink petals? Enough already with the brown.
I wouldn't whine, but I keep seeing pictures of the cherry blossoms in DC, which are painfully gorgeous. And I was thinking maybe they're just lower than us, and wondering how many days it takes spring to travel 8 hours. But today I saw pictures of flashy flowers in the Pacific Northwest, so now I'm just wondering what spring has against us. We need her, too.
Come on, Spring. Get yourself in gear. I'll be your best friend ...