i love this time of year... almost. it's the almost-end of winter. the place where you can go for a week straight with no coat, but there is still a chance that you'll get smacked with the final blast, maybe just cold, maybe cold and snow, but at any rate, it will come: the last death rattle of winter.
and the snow from the last overwhelming snowstorm is almost melted. there are a few piles hanging tenaciously on, like we actually want them around. they remind me of that one guy, and you know this guy, who will NOT leave the party. everyone else is gone. the food and drink is all put away. you have even gone so far as to put on your pajamas and brush your teeth right in front of the guy, just please, for the love of pete, why won't he LEAVE?
because he thinks he's welcome. and he probably wasn't even invited in the first place. he probably invited himself.
i think i'm starting to relive some painful memories from my past, when all i wanted to do was draw an acceptable analogy to the unwelcome-ness and the continuing persistence of this snow and well, winter in general, while i'm at it.
time to go home, guy. i'm ready for spring.