I Hate Spring

The first few days of spring taunt me as I sit in my 19th floor cage and stare out the window. These days beg me to be active outside, to enjoy the warm weather as the humidity and oppressive heat has yet to come. But no, I’m locked in the grip of society and the workaday life. I can only sit at my desk tethered to my computer and look out my window to the horizon. I can see the trees turning green. Their limbs are waving in the warm breeze, beckoning me to join them in the woods for a hike or a run. My mind travels back in time, to the days of my youth, were I can see myself as I once was on a spring day. I can feel the cool new growth of grass between my toes as I run to catch a Frisbee or jump to block a volleyball. Or maybe I’m doing nothing at all, just sitting in the park watching the sky as the clouds slowly drift along. Then, suddenly, my phone rings or an email pops up on my computer screen and I’m back, hating spring.

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