tired of wintah

I’ve been here for a couple of years now and in an effort to embrace the culture, I feel like I need to try and explain Winter.  You see, the rest of the world thinks of Boston as a cold, snow-bound city where everyone is winterized and immune to the harsh conditions.  Not so.  In fact, while most people here love the picturesque canvas of clean, new fallen snow in December, those same people view February as the month when Satan’s frozen cousin comes to claim the souls of New Englanders who don’t normally believe in Satan or his frozen cousin.
In December, people wonder if there will be a romantic white Christmas.  In February, people wonder if there will ever be an end to this frozen nightmare-scape of a city.  People walking in the road, cars slipping and sliding, will there be a snow day or won’t there?
You walk down the hall and say, “Good morning, how are you?” and your colleague says, “I’m tired of wintah.”
So you see, even the most hardened New Englanders have their breaking point, and that breaking point is February.


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