Any time during the summer months you could’ve heard me begging, pleading for winter’s break — since most of those summer days we spent boiling, in my underwear, fan at my back, peeling my sweaty arm from the “beech foil” laminate of my desk as my roommates and I played hour upon hour of Warcraft 3. Autumn came and was relished; there are no months I love more dearly than those that fall in the “mild” seasons. Autumn is great, I adore Spring (also quite possibly because my birthday falls in Spring) and, well, that’s really all the seasons there are to cover.
Winter is here, and now I’m wishing for Summer. I should really be wishing for Spring followed by an early Autumn, but that probably wouldn’t be practical from a tourism perspective. My clothes are wet; and I guess that’s the reason I started this entry in the first place. Washing is, for me, a tedious exercise and is one that I only bother with once my underwear supplies have run drastically low. In Winter this strategy just doesn’t work; in Winter, the clothes stay wet for days on end, leaving me little to wear but the shameful remnants of my wardrobe normally reserved for camping trips.
Then again, today is haircut day; so I guess I have something to look forward to.