It’s a sure sign the year has gotten away from you when it’s may and you’ve only barely registered that it’s spring–which happens to me every May, so, you know, I guess I’m just bad at seasons? Spring is so fleeting–there’s something so arbitrary about the seasonal designations. By the time it’s clearly spring and not winter anymore, it’s almost summer. It hardly seems fair, really. Spring and autumn are the nice seasons, yet they only last a few fleeting weeks and are gone before you notice. Summer and winter last far too long and tend to have too much time where it’s unbearable and you just can’t wait for spring or autumn to come around.

I guess what I’m saying is it’s springtime, and that’s kind of exciting.