an open letter to... Mother Nature

Yo, Mama N... what the frijoles?

In times when parts of the world are being ravaged by earthquakes, hurricanes, tornadoes and floods, I understand that - in comparison - you're going pretty easy on me. After all, the floor has not collapsed beneath me, I don't have to paddle around town in a rowboat and the apartment roof remains firmly in place above my head. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate this greatly.

That said, and with the utmost respect, we have GOT to come to some sort of agreement here.

What's the deal with the overcast skies, constant rainfall and frigid temperatures? Are you pissed? PMS-ing? Vengeful? Depressed? Well it's time to snap out of it Eeyore. It's JUNE (well, in two days) and I'm still donning my winter attire. It's been weeks... I repeat WEEKS!... since I've seen the sun and felt its warmth upon my face. NOT ACCEPTABLE.

"June" and "hold on, let me grab my coat" are two concepts that should not, under any circumstances, go hand-in-hand. So please, pop some pills - be they Midol or Xanax - and bring that fiery yet beloved ball of gas out of hiding so I can put away my umbrella, store my sweaters and sip on cool beverages outdoors while enjoying its rays.

Mkay? Great, thanks.