This has gotten ridiculous. When it snowed a few weeks ago, I was slightly bemused. I could appreciate the novelty of snow for the children's sake. But then you didn't let up - it just kept snowing and snowing and snowing. And snowing and snowing and snowing and snowing and snowing. I lived in Utah for nine years, and never had such a snowy three weeks. You may claim that you gave me a three- or four-day break, but that doesn't count - the snow didn't even come close to melting.
And then you sent the cold in addition to the snow. At the same time that my heat started going out. Every few days, and then every day, and yesterday twice. I'm getting really tired of waking up to a very cold house. Thank heaven I bought the children those slippers for Christmas.
And then you had to send bad weather and ruin our outing to Swan Lake with the girls - a ballet they've only watched the DVD of at least fifty times. Couldn't have you just let up a little for sake of my girls who haven't been out of our compound at all (except for the grocery store once) in the last month?
I suppose that maybe we could still be friends after all of that trouble. After all, you were pretty amazing in Cairo. I can't argue with eighty degrees, sunshine, and bougainvillea in February. And it wasn't your fault that I was gone for part of the winter both years. People have told me that you're usually not so bad here, so I guess I might forgive you on promise of future good behavior.
But no, not any more. We're never going to be friends now.
Our friendship was forever broken when this arrived in my inbox yesterday:
Hello Mr. Sherwood,
I hope this email finds you well.
Please be advised that the vessel carrying your POV shipment has been delayed into port due to poor weather conditions. I have requested a new ETA and will advise as soon as I am notified.
Please advise if you have any questions or concerns.
Why did you have to delay the shipment of my car? Why?? You knew how much I'm counting the days until I can go to the grocery store without calling a taxi or asking a friend for a ride. You knew how much I was dying to try my hand at Baku driving. And I know you overheard me telling everyone how much I love having a car again. How I daydream constantly of climbing into the rich corinthian leather seats of my big, black, V-6 Pilot and having the seat warm my backside as I go wherever I want. Whenever. I. Want. That's just not fair.
Winter, you've got some 'splainin to do.
And that date with my pretty cousin? Definitely not going to happen.