It's Not December.

It’s December.

Does it feel like December? No.

The weather’s been fantastic here in Michigan. If you’re not in Michigan and you’re reading this in Siberia, sorry.

As of today over here, the temperature is a record-breaking 63 degrees Fahrenheit. This is how good our Spring gets. The temperature hasn’t been like this since 1893.

Many of the people are yelling “GLOBAL WARMING!! THIS IS ALL HUMANITY’S FAULT!! WE’RE GOING TO HAVE SUCH A WARM, DULL CHRISTMAS!” Their neighbors look at these people concernedly because these people were the only ones on the block who nearly burned the neighborhood down on July 4th.

We had snow once this month and that was it. Everyone was overjoyed, of course. Everyone likes snow that looks pretty.

The obsession for snow only lasts about two weeks in total. All the snowmen, snow angels, and snowball fights occur in those two weeks. No one touches the snow after that. Everyone starts complaining about how gloomy everything is. Then you, as a lover of every season no matter what, will tell them to kindly be quiet. These people will automatically say “It’s just...I like snow, but like, I hate it when it’s all smushy and brown??” Such people need to be banished off of Earth. They can go to Mars where as far as it’s been discovered, free of snow. Free of snow and life.

All the photographers come out in those two weeks. They go in the middle of Times Square and take pictures of the snow falling. Usually they take these pictures while New York experiences a severe blizzard. The photographers nearly die trying to get good shots, but it’s all in the name of photography. Later in the day, when they’ve recovered from frostbite, they open up Instagram and bring up that one perfect picture. They add a filter which makes it look wonderful and festive. People from around the world see the picture. “Oh, how I wish it snowed here in ______!” They say. The photographer grins wildly. No one will know they almost died trying to make snow look so unthreatening.