Mother Nature, I'd like a word.

It seems you've had some troubles for the past fifty years or so, and frankly, you've got to give a little to get a little. Last spring (scoff!), you kept us cold well past June when a topcoat is an unreasonable request. Then you had the nerve to make up for the cold in one fell swoop of blistering hot nastiness some called August.
I know, I know... "Global Warming" and all that jazz (and like jazz, you are about as predictable).
It's May and not only has the weather been uncooperative with a yucky bout of cold rain in the forecast, but you've prompted a bevy of birds to inhabit my kitchen vent.
What's up? Sure, my complaints are nothing compared to the residents of the Gulf Coast you lashed out on last fall, but overall, what is this really about? Is it our overall unthinking wastefulness? Is it our blind consumption? This is about George, isn't it?
Well, let me tell you, sister, we're just as pissed; so maybe you could just eat some dark chocolate and get yourself back in sync. Trust me, dark chocolate always works.
Please, just don't tell me to back off and 'Build a Little Birdhouse In My Soul' because there's already one in my kitchen, thank you very much.
[Mother Nature at her best.]