Listen, Juneau. Stop it. I know what you're doing. Just stop. Seriously.
You do this all the time. We've been together for what? 12 years? Do you reeeeealllly think I don't know the games you play? Do you think I don't know your empty promises? I'm sick and tired of your hot and cold (wet and dry?) bullshit, and it's time to set some boundaries here.
You've been a COMPLETE ASSHOLE lately, and obviously you know it. At a time of year when you're SUPPOSED to be at least halfway decent to me, you've been nothing but impossible--with torrential rain, 50 degree temps, and the sun nowhere in sight for weeks--no actually? MONTHS on end.
You've abused my good will and wreaked emotional havoc on my life, and you KNOW IT.
You've isolated me from my friends, controlled my money, and tried to limit my mobility with your "low ceilings" and "mechanicals."
Now it's Labor Day Weekend, so what do you do? I'll tell you what. You show up with sun, blue sky, mellow temperatures, no insects, etc., just in time for the shittiest part of the year, as if to remind me that I shouldn't leave you and tell you to fuck off forever, and only come back if and when one of our mutual friends has a wedding in you.
Like do you really think I'm gonna fall for this again?
Because trust me, I won't. I don't care if you show me blue sky for the next three weeks. It won't last, and you and I both know it. I will do it this time. I swear I fucking will. I know this tired ass game of yours.
Be a total shit head all summer, and then for the last long weekend just bust out all the stops: the cloudless sky, the sun, the time off from work, the available camp sites because school's back in session and the tourists are almost gone.
Rinse and repeat.
I am sick and tired of this vicious cycle, I have to tell you. I can't have you toying with my emotions and treating me like shit only to come crawling back to me with this whole eco-porn act. I've seen it all before and I'm not buying it.
Okay fine, this is your LAST CHANCE. I mean it this time.