I hate you.
Mostly because of this, where you decided to ruin my I’m-heading-to-California-on-Saturday-just-in-time-to-miss-this-shit fun by giving basically the entire Eastern part of Canada a gigantor snowstorm watch.
But also because you’re so fucking windy, making my hair look like a untamed version of Vanilla Ice’s on the poster for Cool as Ice as I tried to run errands all over. Errands involving a long line at the Canadian postal service, where in the end I was NOT given a box of my own clothes I sent to myself from New York because my name was misspelled by Canadian postal service workers in the process, and going to a bank to try my best to be a bitch when some crazy 30 business day hold was put on my paycheque without telling me when I deposited it.
Neither of which was helped by the hair, which made my pleas for both my name and my money seem all the more crazy person.