I hate Snow

Last week I enjoyed the three inches of snow that kept me home from work for three days. Today I hate the snow that delayed my husband's flight so that he missed his connection to get back home to Charlotte. Instead of coming home tonight and spending the night with me, working all day, and flying out again tomorrow, he'll just be staying in Michigan all week. I guess it's convenient that his connection was through Detroit.

I hate you, Snow.

But I think my husband hates you more.

I've had enough of winter. I'm ready to wear sandals again (my toes are painted lime green and I want to show them off!) I know my winter has been nothing compared to what I could have if I lived in the Midwest, but I've had enough to remind me that I don't like winter. At all.

I wonder if there are any job openings at the University of the Virgin Islands.

I lived in the Midwest my entire life and I always disliked winter, but it never really bothered me. It actually bothers me now. I hate seeing temperatures drop below 40 degrees, I hate snow and ice and slush, and I hate heavy coats and hats and gloves. I hate shoveling and scraping and chopping ice. I hate being cold.

But most of all, I hate that at this time of year, the weather always seems to interfere with travel plans.

I'm ready for Summer.