I hate winter.

Dear February,

We are not friends. I mean, we get along better than January and I do, but we are still not friends. And every time I think you're about to leave, you just linger on. It's like one of those phone conversations where I can't think of anything else to say and yet the other person keeps drawing out their goodbye. It's like that February: you just won't say goodbye.

Not only that, but you brought your friend Snow with you this year, and believe me, he has worn out his welcome. I'm over him blocking my street parking, getting into my boots, and leaving wet trails from the front door to the back door. Y'all need to MOVE ON.

Seriously.

I'm giving you three days.

Sincerely,

Frances Joy