When the weather is dull, people hunker down inside to cocoon and contemplate their linty belly buttons because they are too pissed off or miserable to spend fifteen minutes layering on jackets, scarves, mitts, boots, and hats. It’s sort of raining outside – the fine mist that gunks up the side mirrors and smears the windows with a greasy film that turns oncoming headlights into glaring prisms that slash at your eyeballs . The car is snow-free and warmish because it’s been sitting in the garage, but when you turn on the ignition, the evil yellow light for ‘fill washer fluid’ comes on and you have to back halfway out of the garage, struggle to open the hood latch and not get road crud…
