Sub-Zero...WINS!!!

6:00- Wakes up. Amazed...amazed, mind you, that he slept through the night. Thank you, chamomille and Jack.

6:02- shuffles over to turn on PC to check his business

6:02 to 6:06- Time to make potty

6:07- Turns on sink to warm up, shoves toofbrush in mouth (chewing it, mostly) opens web browser

6:08- Blinded by the glare of Mozilla Google Start Pages "whiteness" in the dark, fumbles to type "Y-A" in the browser.

6:09- 4 messages! Cool. Temperature in the Twin Cites: -23 degrees F.

Not cool.

So:

Underwear- Check (You may laugh, but a cutting 45 below windchill can go through layers and frostbite your bits!)
Long undershirt- Check
Long undiepants- Check (They don't match, btw. F#ck a bunch of fashion)
Thick wooly socks- Check
T-Shirt over long undershirt- Check
Jeans- Check
Sweater- Check
Hat- Check (Sorry hair)
Gloves- Check
Scarf- Check
12 year old Columbia jacket with liner- Check

If I owned that heavy duty Carhart construction worker snowmobile suit? I'd probably wear that too.

I trundle out to start my car 20 minutes before leaving. It takes a second. It takes me a second to notice that my overhead light doesn't come on right away when the door is open. (Thank you, Stinson Auto, for my new battery.)

I really obsess over the cold. It's true. I think all MN residents do too, to a degree. So, for all my international readers who may be viewing this from warmer climates. ( I just cracked myself up with that one) It's officially so cold, it hurts. I packed an extra hat and gloves in my briefcase. I haven't been to the gym so far this week in spite of having my gym bag with me because it's so cold that it saps my energy just being outside (The closest I've came was Great Dragon, but dangit. Nothing says "comfort" like chicken and brocolli over rice with extra hot mustard).

Here is my email to the gang this morning, which Moda calls poetry:


Cold.
Cold.
Cold.
Cold.

It hurt going from my building to my car*. It hurt going from my car inside. It hurt running out to top my tank off at the gas station and add HEET to it in order to ensure that my car starts in the morning. (That hurt especially. Since you have to stand around cleaning off salt from your headlights and windshield since it's still too cold to try and use your wipers)

Ish.

I figure it could be worse. Chicago has it pretty rough I hear tell. (Stay WARM Magroo!!)

*It should be noted, that even the handicapped parking spaces are at least 100 yards from the entrance. Even at a brisk trot, and the fact that I start my shift at the boot crack of dawn, meant wind burn on my exposed pieces.