Weather-ocolypse (or Why Travel is a Curse)

I don't pay attention to the weather. At all. Don't have a thermometer anywhere on the property. Not particularly curious enough to covet one. Don't watch the Weather Channel.

If you were to ask me what the weather is supposed to be like on any given day, I will smile, excuse myself from your company, go look out the closest window, and report back that it "looks nice out", most likely.

My default settings for weather commenting are as follows:

• Nice - This covers temperatures that feel like they are in the 40-93 degree area, no precipitation.
• Hot - This covers temperatures that feel like they are above 93 degrees, no precipitation.
• Cold - Any temperature that feels like it is below 40.
• Wet - When precipitation has fallen, be it snow, rain, sleet, or miscellaneous.
• Fucked Up - This covers weather that can be categorized as extreme. Like pornography, you know it when you see it.

This past year has seen a disturbing amount of weather in that last category. Take yesterday, par example. I was just your average American Business Man, trying to return home from my American Business Man related Business Trip. Things were going smoothly until, out of the blue, I get marooned in Charlotte for 5 hours. 'Cause Thor gotta hijack the entire east coast with lightning and hail and wind storms. You know, just so He can feel like a BIG MAN.

OOH, I am SO impressed, God of Thunder and/or Wind and/or Hail. Why don't you just buy a sportscar and leave the rest of us alone, you insecure, immortal prick you.

(Get a life, you Norse asshole)

  
Maybe I'm overreacting. After all, the weather here in DC has gone from "Hot" to "Nice" overnight. So that's something.