All the robins in my neighborhood look very very eggy and pregnant.
The potholes in my neighborhood are deeper and more dangerous than I've ever seen them.
People with body mass index scores in the thirties are walking around in knee length shorts.
Everything in the stores is pink, yellow, green and flowery. Even men's shorts. Even wheelchairs. Even cigarettes. (Take a puff of springtime!) If it can be pasteled and floraled, its spring.
Everyone you know is sick, and has been for the past three months with one virus or another. They keep saying they'll feel better when it warms up. They don't actually believe it, though. Not that they won't feel better......but that it will EVER warm up.
Kids are thinking about the great delicacy known as an Easter basket. Makes me glad I'm not a stupid kid anymore. I just eat freakin chocolate constantly; it's how I've managed NOT to blow my brains out all winter. Well, I don't exactly know how to load a gun, either.
You can actually smell the dead rot and decay of all those leaves in your flower beds. It's pungent. It's spring! Not exactly a rose in bloom, but not as bad as the dead raccoon you found last year under the magnolia tree. That your dog just had to roll in. That took nine dog baths to get rid of the stench.
Some of your smaller missing garden tools have shown up somewhat the worse for wear in the places you NOW remember leaving them.
Dismal snow and short gray days have given way to dismal rain and a tad bit longer days.
There is birdsong at 5:00 a.m., reminding you of how you couldn't wait for the noisy little bastard cuckoo suckers to fly south last August when you were suffering your birthday hangover.
There is no snow to shovel and the grass is still relatively frozen to the earth, except for the yellow round spots that your dog has so accommodatingly fertilized for you. To death.
The trees still look dead and you're always just a little concerned when walking the dog when a loud crack is heard. My city doesn't have money to take care of trees, so they just die off, limb by limb. Like a diabetic. Death by installment plan.
The stupid television shows start to go to reruns, which is fine, because you didn't watch them the first time due to their stupidity.
You replace your snow shovel with a rake, your ice scraper with a fly swatter and your constant bitching about being cold with constant bitching about how hot it is.
Please send me money so I can move to Hawaii. The four seasons just aren't working for me anymore.