Hey Winter, This Means War

If winter was a person, I’d hate it. If I were to meet Winter, I would completely disregard everything my parents have taught me about manners, friendliess or basic human decency. I would ignore all of my previous moral instruction and that little, goody-two-shoes voice in my head and I would be mean to Winter. Really, really mean to Winter.

If, by some extremely unfortunate circumstance, I was forced to be in the company of Winter, I would first subject Winter to the silent treatment. I would go quietly about my business even as Winter made itself the topic of conversation at the office. I would not submit to Winter’s attempts to become the center of attention. I would not even look in Winter’s direction. I would not give Winter the time of day. I would give Winter the coldest shoulder it had ever seen.

Unfortunately, as it so often happens when I administer caluclated plans for silent treatment war, Winter wouldn’t notice I was ignoring it. Instead Winter would unfairly presume that I was busy working or simply shy, when in all acutality I trying to telepathically transmit my hate vibes to Winter.

Winter, who has a complete disregard for body language and nonverbal cues, would then approach me despite my well-orchestrated hate vibes. I would remain staring straight-forward and focus all my energy on appearing to be incredibly busy. I would look very, very busy, the I’m obviously too busy to be bothered by anyone kind of busy. Yet, Winter would persist. Winter would say “Good morning” and force me to acknowledge it. And I would say “Good morning” back but I would totally, most definitely, not mean it. Not even one bit.

If Winter and I were forced together in other social interactions and God forbid, Winter became someone I had to see daily, I would be forced to administer harsher acts of meanness.

For instance, if it were Winter’s birthday and our coworkers passed around a birthday card, I would sign it only “Happy birthday.” I would not add an exclamation mark. I would not add unnecessary capitalization. There would be no underlining for emphasis. There most definitely would not be a “Have a good one” because I would not care if Winter had a good one.

If, for some inexplicable reason, Winter didn’t grasp my dislike after my brilliant birthday card attack, I would be forced to get pretty drastic. I would have to resort to tried and true, passive-aggressive tactics. I would “forget” to tell Winter when important meetings and deadlines were. I would wait until after eating the last donut to tell Winter there are donuts in the breakroom. I would not laugh at Winter’s jokes even if I really, really thought they were funny.

If, after months of  my meanness campaign,Winter still didn’t get a clue, I might just have to punch Winter in the face.

Punching someone in the face may seem pretty drastic but, trust me, sometimes you have to show Winter what’s what. You can’t have Winter hanging around until April.

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