While you would expect the afternoon clashing of cold and warm fronts to lead to the formation of at least a few interesting low-pressure occlusions, Monday takes this promising atmospheric pattern and then proceeds to waste it completely. It may threaten to storm, but the threat is empty: Don’t count on this 24-hour period delivering anything more than a tedious light sprinkling.

Here comes fall again, trotting out its tired, formulaic classics (if you can even call them that): polychromatic foliage, predictably brisk winds, and air that, while crisp, still somehow manages to feel stale. It didn’t work for Tuesday last year, and it’s not going to work this year, either.

A severe tropical storm warning might have been a bold move in August, but at this point it just seems like a desperate plea for relevancy. We understand, Wednesday. You couldn’t think of anything else. But honestly, even a rehash of your textbook mostly-sunny-and-mid-70s pablum from last week would have been preferable to this.

By the 9 a.m. mark of this transparent attempt to follow in the path blazed by Arcade Fire, you’ll find yourself wishing Thursday had been quarantined somewhere in 2004 and never allowed to hear Funeral or Neon Bible.

After a week full of wrong turns, Friday brings us something akin to what we saw on May 11, 2012. And yes, I’m talking about the best day of weather the world has ever known. A peppering of wind gusts and a short rain in the morning, followed by a sunny afternoon as refreshing as a sip of lemonade. I look forward to seeing what Friday has to offer in the weeks to come.