It is miserable out there.
Every weekend a new storm. Every day, constant rain. If it’s not raining, it’s windy. It’s cold. It’s bleak. You doubt if spring and summer really exist, if they’re not just a product of your imagination.
So you stay at home. The only thing you have is a bunch of half faded roses you bought yourself for Valentine’s. At this rate, you’re soon fade too.
Apologies for the terrible purple prose but I’m so over this atrocious weather!