Dear Mr. Groundhog,

It is my understanding that it is your job to predict how much longer we must endure this awful, grueling, reoccurring season we face each year: winter.

Typically, from what I remember, you have done a sufficient job in the past. Your predictions may have been a few weeks off here or there, but your previous estimations have been fairly close to the time our dear friend, spring, decides to join us again.

This year, you haven't done so well. I understand that Michigan is tough and can be a bit dramatic or temperamental. But if it's your duty to let us know how soon we will be rid of this chilly nightmare, and you aren't able to see a baby blizzard coming our way, then I'm sad to say that I think you should probably start looking for a new career.

I don't particularly enjoy the snow, and with that comes not particularly enjoying being blindsided by nearly a foot of this powdery substance. I was thoroughly enjoying not needing to wear my giant snowsuit-like coat every time I walk to class or make the one and a half minute journey to my car. We were all content wearing crew necks or long-sleeved t-shirts, maybe even the occasional pair of shorts if the sun was shining just right.

We were waiting for spring with open arms. What really happened was winter snuck up on us from behind and hit us over the head with a snow shovel.

I'd like to say I'm not blaming you, but who else is there to point a finger at? It's in your job description to tell us how many weeks are left until spring, and you didn't come through.

You may argue that "weather changes," or "some things are unpredictable." In that case, I think your employers should be looking for someone a little more qualified. Maybe a goose? Since they do that whole, you know, flying elsewhere depending on the seasons thing. They seem to have that down.

Maybe they would be willing to give you some tips or pointers. I'm not sure, but something needs to change because I'm tired of being filled with false hope and waiting by my window for the snow to melt.

I'm sorry this note to you may have been a bit hostile at times; I didn't mean any harm or hard feelings. I wish you the best of luck with whatever comes your way (fingers crossed for that new job). I hope you've had a wonderfully long winter like the rest of us, and that your warmer seasons will be as fun-filled as mine will be.

Sincerely,

Regen

P.S. -- Don't be upset because I called you out; be upset because you lied. Facts are facts, Mr. Groundhog.