You can all suck it.

I fucking hate hot weather. I do not understand why you people worship the sun like it is God’s gift to Earth. Well, technically, it is God’s gift to Earth. But along with the sun comes heat, in addition to wrinkles and skin cancer and sweaty balls. There, I said it. Summertime is nothing but sweaty balls.

What I hate most about sunny days is how my car is a cozy 107 degrees when I get in it to leave for lunch. The steering wheel burns my hands and my contacts fog up from the waves of heat radiating off the windshield. Not to mention the oil dripping down my freshly-powdered nose. Everyone seems to believe that being in the sun is the equivalent to being beautiful. Yes, honey, your saggy, leathered skin looks sexy as it glistens in the light.

I cannot talk about warm weather without also making this plea. If you come to my bank without first taking a shower, I beg of you to not take it personally when I walk away from my station leaving you clutching your damp one dollar bills that you hoped would be enough to get your account out of the negative. Your mental math stinks, as does your body.

Personally, I was happy with the brisk winter weather. Hopefully it won’t be long before we move up north and I can wear cute scarves all year round. That is, unless global warming ruins that for me too. Until then, wishing you lots of reliable A/C, frozen margaritas and SPF 60.