Everything seems to be getting weird lately; America, my friends and family, myself, my cat pooping outside of his litter box, and now the weather. I had a dream the other night that all of the Crabapples were in blossom in NYC. It was quite beautiful, flowers fluttering everywhere in November but I was fearful of a boring spring. I woke half satisfied this is something my subconscious is genuinely concerned about and half "fuck, it's 65 outside, this is terrible for bulbs and a recipe for an ugly spring." I hate the cold, but I wish Winter would hurry up and get over itself already.