The Snow Can Go.

My parents always said that if you don't have anything nice to say, then don't say anything at all. This is fine and all until you are just so fed up with things that you have to let it out. So here it goes...

I'm incredibly sick of this damn snow. I have had it and I'm pretty sure that if it snows one more time I will cry (maybe I have already. Sue me). We haven't had snow in a few weeks so you're probably wondering why I'm complaining. Despite some 40 degree days last week, there is what I like to call snow mounds on the sides of every street. Unbeknownst to me, New Yorkers think these snow mounds are trashcans. They are filthy with old cups, cigarette butts, dog crap (now, come on), old food and other things that I just wish to forget at the moment.

I knew that yesterday was going to be a long day after the following happened at 8:30 a.m.: per usual, I was walking Bailey before work and casually stepped on some black ice. All of a sudden I found myself on the ground in yes, a snow mound full of trash. It was embarrassing. It was cold. And, I felt very geriatric.

I know that I chose to live in a city where it's cold in more months out of the year than it is warm, but seriously, I have never seen so much snow or have been so freakin cold. Please, please please hurry up spring. Please. I really don't want to have one more blog post about snow and I'm sure y'all don't want to read one either.

Okay, thank you very much readers for humoring me. I feel much better letting that out. On to the weekend...I have some very special visitors [see photo below] coming to see me and for that I'm happy and a bit warmer inside. I leave this negative post with something happy.