This weather sucks.

Conversation about weather is one of the greatest building blocks of small talk. It's a cliche of the highest order. But the recent shitstorm here in the lovely Constitution State has transcended the normal inane chatter about weather and brought about something more:

It's ruining the goddamn fucking summer! Today is Friday. I'm supposed to be antsy in my pantsy about today. I should be dreaming about frolicking on the beach and grilling in my backyard. But I look out the window at this dismal gray world and I can only muster sounds of supreme disappointment. Ugh. Sigh. Bleh. Fuck. I don't care that I'm at work. I should be bursting at the seams to backflip out the door and enjoy the weekend, but I'm lethargic and just don't care about anything.

I seriously can't remember any stretch of bullshit weather having lasted this long in my lifetime. I mean, it's depressing enough that Michael Jackson just bit it yesterday and the Knicks missed out on Rubio and Curry, but now I have to sit here and contemplate how much more it can rain before I'm driven to suicide. The answer? Let's say 4 days.

Already a pessimist about many things, I'm now forced to add sunshine to the list. Occasionally in this god-awful month-long marathon of misery, the sun would peek its shiny little stupid face out from behind the clouds. The people around me...family members, friends, co-workers...might feel some enthusiasm, but I know. I know what's coming. In twenty minutes it'll be darker and nastier than before and then it'll pour. It's cruel; it's unmerciful.

A few times in the beginning I fell for the sun's teasing bullshit. But now I'm like your dog when you overuse that fake-tennis-ball throw. Sure, I hauled ass to the other side of the yard the first time, but each time after that I reacted a little less to the point where now I just lie down and stare depressingly. Why tease me? Sure I pissed on the carpet a couple times...metaphorically and literally...but do I really deserve this? The weather has shackled and beaten my spirits like Kunta Kinte.

So hey: it might be cliche to talk about the weather, but this is different. I'm this close to building a fucking ark. God, if you're really up there, do something about this shit. Because it's summer, and it should feel like it. I want to lie in the yard and crave iced tea and have barbecues and be able to leave my windows open without it raining on my pillows.

Seattle, I don't know how you do it.