I wasn’t too thrilled when I saw today’s topic. I’m not a car girl. I don’t understand them and I don’t want to. My husband’s not a car guy, either. When something breaks or a light comes on, we’re not tinkerers. We just drive to the repair shop and fork over the bucks. A car is just a bucket of bolts that gets me from point A to point B. And how do you make that visually interesting?
I’ve only had one car love in my entire life, but I’ll save that story for another post. (Ahh, Gracie. How I miss you.)
In the end, I opted for a before and after shot. Here’s the before:
This is, to be frank, unacceptable. I despise hot weather. I know there will be some haters out there who chastise me for complaining about lovely spring weather. But I have to face facts: I’m a cold-weather girl. I love boots and tights and layers. I do NOT like being sweaty. And I especially do not like being sweaty on March 15. It’s just too soon. Summer is long enough when it starts in May. March should not see 80-degree days. It’s unnatural. Some might go so far as to call it miserable (but let’s not name names, Dad).
I’m not ready for all of the things that come with 80-degree days. Painted toes, sandal-ready feet, shaved legs. No, no, and hell no. It’s not okay. My sister saw someone yesterday wearing a bikini top at the grocery store. Ugh. I need winter back. At least drizzly, chilly spring. It’s not a popular opinion, but damnit, it needs to be said. MARCH SHOULD NOT BE SUMMER. Period.
Sorry for the all caps shouting. I’m pretty fired up about the sweatiness.
The only, and I do mean only up-side to 77 degrees at 7pm?