Do you ever just feel like doing something absolutely outrageous, like dancing on a table or streaking or rescuing a giraffe from the zoo and making him be your pet? I get this feeling that I call the “summer wilds,” on account of the fact that it typically takes place in the summer, but I guess my brain is seasonally confused because I have it right now.
Seriously, on January 2nd, I am done with snow and being freezing cold everywhere I go and wearing thirty-seven layers. And not the cute kind of layers, but long-johns (okay, I don’t actually wear those, although if I did it might solve Thing I Hate About Winter #2) and fifty scarves. The snow is all charming and adorable during the holidays, but afterward, when it’s all pollution-dirty and icy? Not so much.
Right now, I just want summer. And I know, those people who bitch all summer about how hot it is and then change their tune are dumb. But seriously, it was -11 yesterday, so fuck it, I want sunshine and sand.
Either way, though, I kinda have that let’s-go-crazy mentality usually reserved for when I’m not pale and suffering from frostbite. Except that I know I’ll be all, “Yeah, let’s rage, come on, let’s go!” and bop outside with some contraband FourLoko and then be all, “Shit, no,” and stumble back into a warm bed.
Long story short, I am just going to shut up, calm down, and appreciate the good things about the world being an icy hell. Like warm cozy blankets, and hot coco with whipped cream, and watching people slip and fall in the snow.