Remember when I wrote about how lovely the weather was? Yeah? Nope.
I get it, snow. You're beautiful. I've understood that for the past 18 years. You've had your season; it is now March. GIVE IT UP. Because honestly, if one more iceberg attempts to take up residence in the form of a half-melted puddle inside my shoe, I'm going to have a nervous breakdown. Especially if it happens at 7:40 in the morning, when I am barely awake and walking to class (read: severely unprepared for such ambushes).
In other news, I should have majored in philosophy: