(no subject)
It is 63 degrees outside. YUCK.
For comfort's sake, give me cold weather so I can keep my arms and legs covered! Bare legs mean shaving and butts sticking to your seat and watching in dismay as your thighs sploosh when you sit. Bare arms mean shaving and stupid looking stunted girly sleeves that shove up into your sweaty pits and cold arms in below zero buildings.
And it's hot outside so you're continuously sticky and gross, but people expect you to be outside because it's summer, you know, the thing we wait three quarters of the year for. And people expect you to go to the pool even though you look awful in your conservative bikini and you can't swim and you're half a foot short of drowning. So you bob in the kiddy section and look dumb for a while before you get the car seats wet on your way home, covered in chlorine and starving. What's for dinner? SALAD*. When are we eating it? FOUR. Tell me what happened to real dinners at civilized hours.
And your mother's on your back to get a job, and your friends are on your back to go out with them, and you're freaking the hell out so you avoid the subject and stay at home. Then you're bored.
I hate summer, I want my cold weather back.
*For the record, I am psychologically incapable of eating salad. Too many raw vegetables mixed together.
For comfort's sake, give me cold weather so I can keep my arms and legs covered! Bare legs mean shaving and butts sticking to your seat and watching in dismay as your thighs sploosh when you sit. Bare arms mean shaving and stupid looking stunted girly sleeves that shove up into your sweaty pits and cold arms in below zero buildings.
And it's hot outside so you're continuously sticky and gross, but people expect you to be outside because it's summer, you know, the thing we wait three quarters of the year for. And people expect you to go to the pool even though you look awful in your conservative bikini and you can't swim and you're half a foot short of drowning. So you bob in the kiddy section and look dumb for a while before you get the car seats wet on your way home, covered in chlorine and starving. What's for dinner? SALAD*. When are we eating it? FOUR. Tell me what happened to real dinners at civilized hours.
And your mother's on your back to get a job, and your friends are on your back to go out with them, and you're freaking the hell out so you avoid the subject and stay at home. Then you're bored.
I hate summer, I want my cold weather back.
*For the record, I am psychologically incapable of eating salad. Too many raw vegetables mixed together.