Though I may originally hail from the Great White North known as Connecticut, I am not a winter person by any stretch of the imagination. The Phaeton, which was washed a week ago, is caked in road salt. The Galant often declines to start in below-freezing temps, and the washer fluid stalk is broken, so I can't wash the salt grime off of my windshield. No one shows up to Cars and Coffee when it's this cold. My mood has become as gray as the perpetually-cloudy sky, and my friends have all come down with a case of the "fuck-its," where all they want to do is stay at home and hibernate until April.
I dunno, maybe I have that seasonal affective disorder that people talk about. But more likely, I think that winter just plain sucks.