Winters are supposed to be harsh. They are supposed to make you cold and bitter, right down to your very toes. They are supposed to make you want to curl up under your blanket and shut the world out in every sense of the term. They are supposed to make you resist waking up in the mornings and going about your routine business. They are supposed to make you do a lot many things, but, most importantly, they are supposed to calm things down. Winters are supposed to halt the bullshit and inanity of everyday life; they are supposed to herald the holidays and simpler times where responsibilities, work, cleaning, obligations and what have you vapourise into thin air and leave you with vast amounts of time to do absolutely nothing.
However, the above does not apply to you if you are a lawyer with a boss who is about to take his break and decides that he would like to wrap up a month’s work in a week. This also does not apply to you if you are stressed beyond reason for practically everything in life. This also does not apply to you if you live by yourself and are facing a mountain of housework and fruits to cut for the next day.
All this and more would clearly lead to you becoming a stressed-out, on the edge, over-eating, cortisol producing maniac who eliminates a month of consistent work outs and careful diet. Side-effects include: crazy desire to splurge, binge-eat yoghurt and to lie horizontal in bed all day watching Unreal as if the show’s going to be pulled off from the Internet the very next second.
In addition to you becoming a lazy and fat ass who cannot stop spending/ eating and watching drama, you also become increasingly annoyed and depressed with this strong urge to kick people for being who they are while deeply wishing that it were summer again.