I hate so-called "nice" days. First of all, sez who? Today for example is considered to be a nice day where I live. It is currently 85 degrees, bright blue sky with not a cloud in sight. Over everything, dominating, is a hot, bright, unrelenting sun, the kind that makes you sweat and burns tender skin and causes deadly cancers. That sun. That same sun that everyone loves so much, celebrating it constantly in song. They even named a day after it; notice there is no Clouday or Rainday but there is a Sunday, a.k.a. The Lords' Day, it's so fantastic. Well guess what: I don't like it one bit. I don't like bugs, I don't like sunburn, I don't like the greasy stuff you have to spray or slather on to keep from burning or getting cancer. So there. So I stay inside on these "nice" days. My idea of a nice day is slightly overcast, sky more gray than blue, letting the colors of the flowers really pop instead of getting washed out by the sun's glare. I like a breeze, and maybe a crisp 58 to 65 degrees. I want to need a sweater with me, and have gloves and a scarf at the ready. Sue me.
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