It snowed last night.
No, let me be more specific: it sleeted last night, and at such a high intensity that it left a half inch of ice on the ground.
You had ONE JOB, Spring.
I'm reacting to it with a downright stubborn attitude. I turned off my heat already and I refuse to turn it back on. It is spring, dammit. It's mid-April. This is supposed to be the time when we can finally stop worrying about blizzards (even in New England) and start wistfully preparing for springtime activities.
Easter is this Sunday, for crying out loud.
The weather this week has been absolutely killing me. From hurricane-like winds to torrential downpours to - gee - ice-snow on the ground, I haven't been able to get a proper run in since Saturday. Which doesn't seem like that long ago, except for the fact that I'm bringing myself back to up to snuff for the Boston Run to Remember Half-Marathon, which I want to complete in under 2 hours (I completed the Ashland Half Marathon with a time of ~2:07). So that means I want to get up to 13 miles long before the race, and focus on upping my average pace.
I really just need to move to San Diego, where it's nice and sunny and dry all the time. My ancestors were out of their mind, traveling as far up north as they did. This is insane. I don't care how innovative humans are. There's a reason why we sweat, but don't have any fur. This type of body was meant for the warm, dry climates. And that's where I want to be.