The sun is shining, the pollen is bursting, the chipmunks are fornicating, and all you want, need, think about, or care about is sex. Springtime is your mating season. Embrace it. Greet the sun buck-ass naked and venture out into the world seeking a partner. It shouldn’t be difficult. After all, it’s springtime, and everyone’s horny. That’s just nature’s way.
The dark days are over. The cold days are gone. There’s a reason that winter is so often used as a symbol of death and aging and decline and all the other awful things. But now that the ice has melted, hope springs anew. Grab your sunglasses, step out into the sunshine, and tongue-kiss a stranger.
. How much money do we have again? Does that count the coins, too? OK, and how much gas money would it take to get us to Virginia Beach and back? We have that loaf of bread and some peanut butter, right? OK, I’ll grab a butter knife. We’re heading to Virginia Beach in 10 minutes. No, we don’t need to shower. The ocean will wash off all the dirt, I promise.
Maybe it’s a new job. Or a new city. Or a new boy. Or a new haircut. But just like you can’t stop the weather from changing, sometimes you can’t stop your life from changing. And with the right attitude, all change can be good.
You can see it coming in through the windows in the morning. You can feel it on your skin. The light is so strong you have to squint when you walk outside. Remember the light that turned its back on you and walked away for so long? Now it’s back, and it’s smiling right down on you.
Flowers. Fields and fields of endless flowers. Running through those fields of flowers with him. Lying down in those fields of flowers with him. It’s just you, him, and endless fields of flowers.
Rebirth. You were hibernating emotionally all winter. Time to stretch with all your might and break out of your cocoon. Yeah, the cocoon was nice and warm and protected you from the blizzards and the darkness, but it’s springtime. Break out of it and feel the wind underneath your wings.
Bumblebees. And butterflies. And birds. And squirrels scurrying up the side of trees. And little old ladies walking their. And little old men playing chess in the park. And some cute guy you’ve never seen in town before.
Diet. Good Lord, ever since Halloween there was all that pumpkin pie and turkey and stuffing and egg nog and fruitcake—OK, not fruitcake. HATE the fruitcake. But you’ve been stuffing your face like a chipmunk ever since the first cool breeze signaled that autumn was coming. Time to eat right and start exercising in time for swimsuit season.
Guys in T-shirts. Abs. Biceps. But forearms—especially forearms. Guys in T-shirts doing menial labor like changing their motor oil or chopping wood. And they’re sweating, all over their abs and biceps and forearms, soaking their T-shirt and necessitating its immediate removal…
Thawing out. What a brutal, wicked, icy, gray, bitter, merciless winter it was. But now the sun feels closer and the warm winds are rolling in and there’s no more ice and no more gloves and no more Chapstick and no more Theraflu…just warm air on your skin.
A LOT less. None of the sweatpants or thermals or sweaters or scarfs or mittens thirteen layers of socks. Seriously, once it gets warm, a single T-shirt, pair of shorts, and flip-flops can get you through a week. Plus, the springtime air feels so good on your skin.