Dear Cold Front

You’re a real Grade-A son of a bitch. Coming out of nowhere and lowering the temperature by thirty degrees overnight. I’m sick, man. Albeit, I’m not sick enough to get out of going to class, but I insist that that’s worse. I already have to walk across campus and sit in class for hours while I feel like garbage; the last thing I need is for you to traipse on in here with your 50 degree lows making everything worse. I mean, if you have to go and ruin the weather, couldn’t you have the courtesy to go whole hog and bring the temperature down below freezing so it can start snowing and everyone here in sunny Florida can promptly start losing their minds and closing down everything so I can sleep off this cold?

No. You couldn’t. Because you’re an inanimate weather phenomenon controlled by equally inanimate forces, devoid of free will or purpose. You bastard.

A pox upon thee,
Nicko