Daddy longlegs season is upon us and I am traumatised every single day. I can’t wait until those horrible craney strings of fly death wither away because I spend the majority of September screaming.
Autumn is my favourite season of the year. I am extremely sensitive to drastic weather changes, and for that reason I hate Summer. I can wrap up in the winter, but in the summer? What can I do, rip off my skin? And I can’t think of anything worse than sweltering summer nights. I don’t care if it’s 40 degrees at 3am, I need a blanket.
I hate that everybody gets sick in the Winter and I have to live as if the next person could breathe a little too close to me and BAM runny nose and pounding headache for the next two weeks. Come to think of it, everybody in my house is sneezing at the moment. It’s only a matter of time.
Spring probably has to be the worst. I hate liars. I hate water that’s lying about being milk. I hate Winter that’s lying about being Summer. -50 degrees, sun out. Frozen tears, but if I move 2 inches to the left, the sun is burning my back. What’s the point in the cold when we don’t get the early nights either? I hate spring.
Read more