Things I have to say about a 40 degree day

With all due respect to those who find a 40 degree day to be simply unremarkable, I must say I wholeheartedly disagree. You see, here’s the thing about a 40 degree day: I step outside on a 40 degree day and am inevitably underdressed. The 40 degree day is the most deceptive kind of days – there is no chance of meatballs – there is the sad brightness of the sun, contrasted with the hint of snow in the air, and a bitter, runny-nose inducing wind.
The 40 degree day is the check-slash-check-minus of days.
All I’m thinking on a 40 degree day is, Why did I not wear that second layer? Why is the sun out, and I can’t feel my face? When my fingers regain the ability to bend, I am going to attempt to buy a warm beverage. I do not appreciate dry hands.
40 degree days are prime gripe-fest fodder. My thought is if Moses came down from the mountain with the 10 Commandments and the Israelites had greeted him with 40 degree weather he would have been like, “aw hell no, Israelites, hell no – get out of here with this bootleg weather. You will not be governed by these higher laws because you have greeted me with such shitty weather. I blame your damn golden calf for this shit.” To which, of course, they would have responded that only a heartless higher power could create something as awful as slave labor, plagues of locusts, the movie Glitter, and 40 degree days. Agree to disagree.
But let’s cut the 40 degree day some slack for its lack of joie de vivre. The 40 degree day did not ask to be inherently inferior to those days where you need to play hits of the 90s really loudly while drinking on a patio. Did you know Hootie and the Blowfish came out with a second album? Yeah, they did. That feeling you’re feeling right now, that’s a 40 degree day. And you know what, don’t discount that. Hootie’s lack of sophomore success is like finding a really good looking bowl of cheerios – please, you know they don’t have honey nut in here – and taking the first bite only to find this is one soggy ass, stale ass bowl of cereal. The cheerios weren’t good, but they were there for you.
So let’s count on the 40 degree days to keep letting us down. They are the Salieri of weather. And without them, we’d be optimistic fools – just some spoiled, sweaty motherfuckers.


Galia Abramson has a lot to say about various weather conditions. Her favorite kind of day is a 70 degree day with a light breeze, more commonly known as “sweater weather.” Editor's Note: put a sweater on some bbq weather