Attention Whore

Diary

In my younger youth (nearly 28 is still fairly youthful, right?) i would scoff whenever anyone complained about the weather.  "ugh, what a stupid thing to bitch about.  i'm not going to waste my energy kvetching about the weather!"  I felt my energy was better spent on disdain and self righteousness, apparently, and that letting the weather get to you betrayed some sort of character defect.  It's funny how quietly i've changed though, because this morning, as i sat in bed, staring with seething displeasure at the snow swirling outside my windows, i was shocked to realize that my mind was filled with weather related complaints and i wondered to myself, "when the hell did i start complaining about the weather?!"  All i know is i've been doing it for some time now and that, pretty much every morning for the past several weeks, i've been dreaming of packing up my car and moving to L.A.

Weather is an attention whore, a big fucking drama queen, like that girl in college sticking her tongue down her best friend's throat any time the boys were around.  And as Weather gets colder, she gets moodier too and she wants EVERYONE to know how she feels so she starts crying frozen tears and screaming icy blasts of wind.   She likes to watch rabid packs of elderly women crowding the grocery stores, clutching at bottled water and loaves of bread, because it makes her feel super important and seeing cars skid, slide, and fish tail into one another makes her panties moist.   Watching motorists play musical cars during winter parking bans reminds her of her childhood.  She lives to give you seasonal affective disorder.

I'm not sure when it happened, but i'm pretty sure i started complaining about her when i stopped being a bigger attention whore.  I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad one, but i do know it still feels like a big waste of energy.  Energy that would be better spent planning my move to California, where the weather is friendlier and too busy sun bathing to want anyone's attention.