In like a lion. Out like a lamb. 31 bad hair days.
Spring is a movingly lovely testament to renewed life, a season wherein tender blossoms long-dormant shoot forth from the earth at last—only to be crushed under sludgy snow again and again, on the hour, for months. It’s kind of like you trying to get out of your puffy, sweat-soaked winter coat. Yeah, never mind, spring is actually really awkward and miserable and it suits almost no one, unless you like the big-hair, mud-on-your-face look. Spring: confusing life forms everywhere, every year, since 8000 BC. You're next. GET EXCITED.