I’ve been through four hurricanes and countless Nor’easters.

I spent my first day in Boston sitting inside an apartment watching “Law & Order” reruns as Superstorm Sandy blew through. In 2009, a strong three-day Nor’easter left several feet of water in the basement of my co-op. That was a pain.

But I’ve never seen anything quite like the past few weeks in Boston.

Those other storms showed up to plague people for a few hours or even a day, but they moved on. Boston’s insane weather the past few weeks has given us snow every weekend. And sometimes during the week. I can’t even keep the snowstorms straight any more.

It’s more like a slow-motion disaster. Well, that’s maybe a tad too melodramatic.

Granted, nine people have died, and some poor sap was buried in an avalanche when snow slid off a roof. But for most the weather is more like an unrelenting annoyance of middling proportions.

For one, it’s cold. Really cold. As I write this it is -8 degrees outside.

And there’s snow. So, so much snow. And they’re running out of places to put it. They may dump it into the harbor alongside some Colonial-era tea crates.

A snowpile right outside the window is as tall as the city bus sitting next to it.

And this excess of snow is a strangely Boston problem. The heaviest snow has fallen pretty much on Boston proper, with snow totals dropping off the farther you get out of the city limits.

At this point I should probably be describing the resilience of the human spirit, the flinty New England character and the like. The reality is that everyone is just grumpy about the weather and wants it to end.

Before the first big snowfall, I headed off for some panic shopping. The store was packed and the shelves were stripped bare of bread, eggs and milk. The French Toast index was clearly at Defcon 1.

Last week before the lastest storm, no one could be bothered to panic or really care. The store was calm.

Trying to get places is mainly fraying people’s nerves these days.

Some people’s cars just seem lost to the snow forever, left for some future generation to finally chip out of the grip of our unending frozen hell. For others, a Hobbesian “if I dug out my car out of a space, I own the space” spirit rules.

Space-saver wars have become increasingly ugly or resulted in vandalism. Some guy parked in a spot and later emerged to find the claimant, filled with righteous anger, had gone to the trouble to shovel the interloper’s car back in. Other cars have been vandalized.

Commuters without cars can opt for the repeated indignities of mass transit. Attempting to take Boston’s creaking, underfunded trains and buses to work is a veritable journey of the damned.

The passengers in “Snowpiercer” likely had a better time on a train.

Last weekend they MBTA decided that the problem of overcrowded, late trolleys that break down all the time is best solved by just not having trolleys any more. My line was replaced with a bus.

Monday, I waited 35 minutes in sub-zero temperatures as three buses packed with passengers whizzed past our stop. When an empty bus arrived, three dozen people at our stop jammed into it. Now we were the ones on the bus whizzing past stops where people had been waiting as long or longer than us.

When we stopped for a light at Packard’s Corner, several dozen people were waiting there. When our driver told them the bus was full, some of the people there just completely lost it.

A woman began shouting profanities at the driver through the bus door, demanding to be let on board. One twentysomething woman at the stop was crying. We got flipped off when we pulled away.

I arrived at Kenmore Station to wait another 20 minutes on a freezing platform to repeat the sardines-in-a-can trip on a Green Line train. At least sardines’ fates are already decided before they are sealed in.

From leaving my house to stumbling into the office, it took me a little more than two hours to get to work Monday, about the length of time it takes to fly from Boston to Detroit.

But my train is supposed to be working on Monday. A front-end loader is currently trying to chip a layer of snow off the tracks in front of my building. That is, unless weather intervenes. And it will.

Right now it’s a lovely sunshine day, but snow and then freezing rain is in the forecast for this afternoon and tomorrow.

At some point it has to stop. Maybe by July. August at the latest.