In which there’s a turn for the worst, or at least for normal

Me: “Wow, this weather is great. Maybe I should go ahead and unpack my summer clothes.”
Weather: “Yeah! Do that! I’ll be here forever and ever!”
Me: “It was pretty cool to get to wear my new skirt…”
Weather: “Yes! Wasn’t it? Feel that sun on your alabaster calves!”
Me: “And I could definitely wear these new tops with my old skirts…”
Weather: “Expose your vampirically pale biceps to my soothing rays!”
Me: “Besides, long skirts are back in this season – I could bust out my green skirt and actually be in on a trend for once.”
Weather: “Rejoice, for I have blessed your harsh and stressful existence with my benevolent and beneficent glow!”
Me: “Yeah, you know what, I’m going to unpack some things. At least I’ll have some variety for the rest of the week.”
Weather: “Oh, actually – hang on, I just got a call, they need some backup in Jamaica and the Mediterranean. Sorry.”
Me: “Wait, what?”
Weather: “Sorry. Guess you’re out of luck.”
Me: “But…when I got to class at one, you were just fine.”
Weather: “I know, I know.”
Me: “And…it only took me ten minutes to get home.”
Weather: “Yeah.”
Me: “And you’re already completely clouded over.”
Weather: “What can I say, I’ve had practice.”
Me: “I hate you.”


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