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I am The Worst at spring.

I was down in Georgia for a wedding last weekend, and upon turning on my phone to compulsively check Facebook the second the wheels touched down at La Guardia I was bombarded.


Apparently a little bit of sun and weather above 34 degrees counts as spring in the northeast, but nonetheless, Facebook declared it and in my bones I knew it was true.

I really, really want to like you, spring. I want to embrace your slightly longer days and get excited about layering but when it comes down to it you’re just a fucked up fall. Fall is this wonderful time when the weather eases you into a sweet cocoon of blankets, lulling you to sleep with shorter days and GIVING YOU BACK THE HOUR THAT ASSHOLE SPRING STOLE.

Spring reminds me of my failures. Instead of delicately peeling back the layers and emerging a well-rested, graceful butterfly, every spring I’m bursting out of the seams of my winter cocoon, a fat, pale moth. If I had wings, they’d be made of the giant grey sweatpants I wrap myself up in the second I get home every night.

Fat sweat pant moth.

Here are some more reasons why spring sucks: 

  • The realization that this is not The Year. By the time April rolls around, I’ve given up on all my New Year’s Resolutions, have tried and failed at at least three crash diets and I’ve determined that this is not the year that I magically developed an aversion to food. I haven’t started paying my bills earlier, bringing my lunch to work or making my bed with any greater frequency than any of the other years and spring has come to remind me of that. 
  • Boots. Most of the time, you still have to wear boots in the spring. I hate wearing shoes in general, and boots that have weathered at least one winter (or two if you’re like me and only buy boots every other year) become stinky torture devices in which my feet are doomed to feel overheated all day long.
  • Not wearing boots and ending up in a random snow storm. In the fall this is exciting. It’s like, “Ohhh how cute. The first snow! I’m going to buy wine and not care that I ruined a pair of flats I’d just broken in.” In the spring it’s like –

  • The other night I ordered a calzone in my sleep. I’M SERIOUS YOU GUYS. I have no idea how it happened, the last thing I remember is watching reruns of The Following and then going to bed, but the next day one of my roommates was like, “I ate your calzone,” and I was like, “That’s not my calzone,” and then I checked my email and I had ordered seamless web around 1 AM. I know this doesn’t seem like spring has anything to do with that, but spring is a sneaky motherfucker. 
  • The end of spring break blues. Or in my case, the end of Passover blues. I work for a Jewish company so I’ve get a TON of holidays off. Now that they’re over, realizing I don’t have another holiday until May is catastrophic.
  • TV IS ABOUT TO END. And I just can never get into the summer shows.

Maybe one day I will begin to like spring, but I don’t see it happening anytime soon.

Peace, love and I’m going to be cranky until Memorial Day, 




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