It seems that summer humidity is setting in on the first day of Spring. There is a thick layer of yellow pollen on my car and the picnic table. I have a big paper to write.
This is the kind of night where I need a storm. I want to hear the winds blow, the sky crash, and the sound of rain against my window panes. That type of weather feels simultaneously like a rebirth and an excuse to hunker down, throwing myself into academic pursuits. Outside world be dammed, I am in here warm and dry, trying my best while you throw the worst from the sky.
I do hope it it storms.