Not that I haven't enjoyed wearing my vintage coats, (faux) fur stole, turbans, and fleece lined everything, but I'm really excited about wearing fewer articles of clothing. Maybe my hatred of winter is due to the fact that I spent the vast majority of my childhood running around in my underwear and the plastic version of Dorothy's ruby slippers (just look at my childhood photos - it's like I didn't have any other shoes), and only layering on pants and a jacket when it got too cold to go swimming and play Oregon Trail outside. Whatever the reason, a decade later, I still hate winter.
I'm ready for beach days, and popsicles, and temperatures that begin with numbers greater than 7.
And until that first glorious day of spring, I'll be silently cursing winter and dreaming of better days ahead.