Weather Forcast
SANITY ON BACKORDER
From Hive Peak Boulevard
By Danu Marche
Humor Columnist
Published: September 11, 2024
Synapse & Spectacle
———
Apparently, the weather now has an opinion about my personal failings.
This morning’s forecast wasn’t content with telling me it might rain — it implied I deserve it. “Showers likely, especially if you forgot your umbrella again,” the anchor said, with the kind of smirk usually reserved for high school bullies. I don’t need a cloud shaming me before coffee.
The weather used to be neutral, a public service. Now it’s a passive-aggressive roommate who knows all my weaknesses. Yesterday, the app didn’t just warn about heat; it suggested I stay indoors “if I’m worried about wilting.” Excuse me? I am not a houseplant.
It’s gotten so personal that I half-expect tomorrow’s update to read: “Wind gusts up to 30 mph. Might blow away your dignity, too.” At this point, I check the forecast less for actual weather and more to see what petty grievances the atmosphere has filed against me.
This is, of course, the same meteorologist who once referred to a sunny stretch as “great beach weather, for people who made better life choices last winter.” I don’t even know what that means, but I felt judged.
Midway through today’s segment, the camera cut to the radar, and I swear the storm front looked like it was pointing at my house. My neighbor said I was imagining it, but this is the same neighbor who thinks our local squirrels are “cute.” One squirrel is currently balancing on my windowsill with a potato chip, staring at me like it’s moderating the forecast. Coincidence? Doubtful.
Here’s the thing — maybe we need passive-aggressive weather reports. If climate change has taught us anything, it’s that subtle hints don’t work. Maybe we deserve a little shade before the actual shade rolls in.
Imagine a forecast that actually motivates you:
“Monday: Unseasonably warm. Maybe go outside before your treadmill subscription renews itself.”
“Thursday: Heavy rain. Take a moment to think about why your garage still leaks.”
And if the wind does blow away my dignity, at least it’ll match the umbrella I left in the backseat last month — the one a squirrel has almost certainly stolen by now.
Until then, I’ll keep checking the forecast, not for the weather, but to see how else it plans to roast me. Tomorrow’s high? Ninety-two degrees and… “over it.” Same, honestly.
“If your local forecast has started subtweeting you, please send screenshots. We’ll start a support group.”
©2024 Danu Marche
