Melted snow turned the streets a darker shade of concrete today in a heat wave worth celebrating only in North Dakota.
"It's 22 degrees," one co-worker said today.
And it was.
Today I walked outside wearing only one pair of pants and didn't feel the chill suffocate my skin and dry my epidermis. Twenty-two degrees feels like 60 when you're used to double digits below zero. If the streets weren't so covered in ice, I'd have taken a walk and worked on my tan. But even though I didn't, I smiled and strolled without fury anyway. As in, instead of wearing multiple pairs of gloves and socks and amplifying my amble from outside to inside, I could enjoy the fresh air... breath it in without coughing it out. It's nice not to have to rush from car door to door. In fact, Vinny's temperature gauge raised from 6 to 3 o'clock faster than Canada's Abel LeBlanc raised his middle finger to the legislature up North.
Perhaps it's too early to say this, but Vinny only got stuck once this year, and it wasn't entirely his fault. I was delivering home-building goods to Cowboy on a day in which driving should have been banned like racial slurs from freedom of speech. Luckily, my car was mere feet from two handsome men in Carhart overalls, so a push and pedal to the medal later, Vinny was free and the world was saved from tyranny, depression and dolls with exposed midriffs. Pretty much.
I was scared for winter this year. Scared it could somehow be worst than the last, scared of getting stuck, stranded and frozen so far in the middle of nowhere, no one would find me 'til the snow melted. And I'm pretty sure my mascara would run by then. Hideous.
I'm glad to see that while she put up a fight, MoNa didn't win this year. I did. Not that she isn't a sneaky little sucker, (she dusted Jamestown with 27 inches last March, so she could hit again) but I think she took some sedatives this year. Or maybe some Midol. Or then again, maybe she's just so tired from crudding on the rest of the country, that North Dakota got a little break this year. A torture chamber, sure, but a swift kick beats kneecapping any day.
Thanks for winter. It reminds us to take advantage of the nice days and squeeze in each ray of sunshine. The cold days remind us how futile we humans are, and how, despite our best efforts, we are not resilient. We need the help of warm weather, heated vehicles and most importantly, each other. Lesson learned.
Springing for spring,
It’s us, but in dead animal form. But not really dead because they weren’t ever alive. Undead? No. That makes them sound like vampires. So not that. Fuck. I don’t know the word. Hey, how long can a title be? Because this seems excessive. Someone should stop me. Jesus. This is as bad as 280-character twitter. - Victor is finally home from Japan and I didn’t set the house on fire or eat any of our pets while he was gone. Yay for the small things! He always comes b...
5 hours ago