The humidity is an almost arid 39%.
There is a brisk, 12-mph breeze whipping in from the west-northwest.
And the sun is bemused instead of beaming.
We only have a couple of days like this each year below the Mason-Dixon line. People walk around in a fog of antsy giddiness. There is a world out there, and we want to play in it. It's just outside the window, just out of reach.
Or beyond the cubicle, through a coworker's office, and outside her window. I can see a whole square foot of paradise from my swivel chair, and that's not maddening AT ALL.