Frozen

I’m suffering from a massive case of writer’s block.

Some of it, I’m sure, is that my brain is FROZEN because the high for the day (the HIGH, boys and girls), is 5 below. The low for tonight? -20. That’s before we factor in the windchill. The only solace I’m finding is that opposing counsel on a case is flying in on Thursday to take a deposition. Opposing counsel is from the south and asked me about the weather forecast. I apologized in advance for the weather, but I don’t think he really understands what it’s going to be like. I’m a little bit cruel in that I can’t wait to see his reaction.

Really, though, it’s so cold that the temperature is all my little brain can focus on.

I mean, I could complain about how my car won’t start but that’s related to the cold.

Or I could complain about how the plow drove by my house at about 4:30 in the morning and proceeded to back up (beep beep beep) and drive forward (scraaaappppee) and back up (beep beep beep) and drive forward (SCCRRRRAAPPPE) over the same area right outside my bedroom window for about fifteen minutes, just to make sure I was wide awake with absolutely no hope of falling back asleep again, no sir. But that, too, is related to the cold.

I could tell you about how the mister’s alarm is set to play a local radio station and when it came blaring to life yesterday morning, the DJ cheerfully announced that the current temperature was -17. The mister slapped the radio into silence, rolled to face me and said, “I’m not getting up. You can’t make me.”

Or I could talk about how awesome I think it is that every Minnesotan owns a hat and wears it in public, regardless of hat hair or how goofy we look, because we prefer having and keeping our ears to hair with volume, but that, too is related to the cold.

I could talk about how uncomfortable frozen boogers are or how I smashed my finger in my car door when I slipped on a patch of ice, but didn’t notice the injury until my hands thawed out on my train ride, but these, too, are related to the cold.

(Also, smashed finger? OUCH.)

So, really, that’s all I’ve got. It’s cold and that’s all I can think about.