Mother Nature.

You huge bitch.

As I stepped out for my walk to the train this morning, I was greeted with snowflakes the size of the golf balls I should instead be hitting.

Maybe you forgot to grab your free calendar at the bank, but it’s April f-ing 5th, and I shouldn’t be yelling, “Honey, where’s my f-ing scarf?” all of three days before the Easter Bunny hops through town. Heck, Mother Nature, the Mets have already won three games. Don’t you watch SportsCenter?

I should be wearing a Hawaiian shirt and envisioning chalices of Margaritas in my sun room (”sun,” for your edification, refers to the fiery yellow ball one occasionally sees up in the sky). I should not be wondering if those brave crocuses and daffodils poking through the dirt will perish under your hateful boot.

Get your act together.

–Trainjotting