Saturday, April 25, 2015

Ducking done

I curse. (But maybe you knew that already?) I am ok with it because I know exactly why I do it. It is not because I am devoid of class or because I received a sub standard education which left me without more eloquent words to use. No, I curse because certain statements demand a curse word. Sometimes the only way to effectively express my current thought is with a curse word.
That being said, with regard to this winter and the still lingering cold weather:
I am fucking done.

Fucking done.
Not done.
Not so done.
Not so darn done.
Not ducking done (nice try autocorrect)
Not flipping done, or freaking done or even F-ing done.
Not over it, not beyond.
I can't even... Except I can. I can because I am so fucking done that there is nothing else that can aptly convey how fucking done I am except to say I'm fucking done.

Dear winter, 
Fuck you.
Love, me

Dear weather that's still cold,
Go fuck yourself.
Love, me

Dear coat and boots,
I never want to fucking see you again... or at least not for a solid seven months.
Love, me

It comes as no surprise that I am fucking done. It's become a bit of a yearly ritual, me and this done-ness. In fact, every year around this time I am fucking done. For some reason I continue to live in a place that does this to me year after year. So I guess in a way I have no one to blame but myself. Nonetheless, I'm fucking done, and I just wanted to make sure everyone knew that. 

That is all. You know why?
Because I'm fucking done.
You can just fuck off now. We're fucking done.

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