Chilly con carne.

It is cold.

It is so cold that two mice had to jump start a cockroach to get to work.

It is so cold that the words that come out of my mouth are frozen and you have to fry them to hear what I said.

I have been a bundley mess lately. I wear a long sleeve shirt, layered under a thick sweater. Then I put on a jacket. Over the jacket I wear my long wool coat. Over the coat I put a big thick scarf that I wrap tightly around my neck and face. I wear a big, thick and snuggly hat. I wear two pair of socks. I wear big, clumsy boots. I wear very thick and warm gloves. I put this uniform on when I leave my house and then again when I leave the office. And I am sick of my winter uniform.



I had no intention of looking like a marshmallow this winter. I really wanted to be cute, savvy, stylish city girl in her smart coat and heeled shoes. But Cold Gnomie is beating Stylish Gnomie to the ground. *Sigh.

This morning on the metro, I was standing akwardly trying to take off my gloves and find my backpack among all the fluff and a man tapped me on the shoulder. I was startled because there is never personal contact or recognition on the metro for me. I turned around and there stood a man, gesturing towards the open seat he just vacated. Someone gave up their seat for me. Someone gave up their seat for me. I was touched. Until the thought occured to me that perhaps he gave me his seat because I looked large with child. *Double sigh. Atleast me and my baby are warm.