OK, I want whoever pissed off the weather gods to apologize right now.

A few days ago it seemed like spring was on its way: the sun was shining, the breeze was warm, I even heard birds chirping.

Now some unholy form of precipitation is being crapped down upon our heads. Sure, through a window it looks so picturesque — gentle little flakes, floating out of the night sky, refracting the street lights in pleasing patterns. It’s a lie. The stuff pouring down actually is comprised of malicious ice fragments, propelled by an angry wind deep into the epidermis of folks just trying to get home for the evening.

And what’s the deal with umbrellas? I haven’t seen this anywhere else, but in New York, people pull out umbrellas whenever anything starts falling on them. Maybe that’s why people get killed when chunks of buildings start raining down; they pull out umbrellas and think that will do something.

Really, you know, they’re just about as effective with snow as they are with building blocks.

Maybe that’s why the weather turned bad. The gods aren’t upset; they just enjoy watching the poor mortals try to cope.