iEATcars!

Dear Sun,

Despite how much Florida likes to romanticize its painfully suffocating relationship with you, you are seriously getting on my nerves.

In the mornings, I somehow manage to make it to work, playing bumper-cars on I-4 while fighting the sleepies and the blinding radiance that you exude. Then after spending countless hours working for the man, I drive home, reversing my path on I-4, fighting a miserable clusterfuck of traffic with squinted eyes as I curse your existence and my inability to escape you while I am driving.

Neither my car visors nor my sunglasses, which I love for the fact that they have darker-than-normal lenses, provide any true relief from your torture on my eyes.

I hate you.

-Will