Some say the world will end in fire, but those people must still be in bed, because the dread wintery mix is upon us and it is the real snowpocalyptic deal. I suspect that anyone who greets this weather as if he’s just woken up in a charming Norman Rockwell holiday portrait has deluded himself into believing that he lives in the Northeast. Listen up, Mid-Atlantic region: There are no counterintuitive hardiness points to be earned by pretending that the world of awful falling from the sky is wonderful, or good, or even tolerable. Freezing snow is not nice, ever, but what you and I experience in the District rarely ever amounts to snow. It’s something far worse, a vengeful sleet at best, a seasonal crisis that a mug of hot cocoa won’t solve. This figure in Fotomoe’s snap? Not skiing, not caroling, not wassailing, not traipsing through a winter wonderland. The suffering — the suffering.