The first sign was waking up at 5:30 am for work. Seven degrees with a wind chill just slight of just plain damn it to hell. The idea that New Orleans was 17 degrees with a wind chill somehow made me wish I had a cornerman to throw in a towel for me. In black-and-white, real Scorsese-like.
Somehow, despite missing the snow that had thrown the area into the usual panic, my car was frozen shut. Well played, mother nature. Well played. So now, hour and a half late only to find out that since I have not had a flu shot, I would have to wear a freaking surgical mask all day.There was a bit of consolation in that work did not go bad after I got there. So there was that.
To provide the final insult, as I was leaving work (now -2, -20s wind chill), my car froze open. Froze open like a butch chick at an Ani DeFranco show. That is to say, the door froze when I opened it, and wouldn't latch back shut. Real opportune fucking timing, I must add. Finally got home, packed a bowl, and kicked it around a bit. One Monday down, many more to go this year, and I live to fight another day. I mean, it's not like things aren't looking up. The high tomorrow is supposed to be twelve degrees.