So far today I have made two trips from my house to campus and back. And you know what? It sucks. It's not quite cold enough for the snow and ice to be firm, so my Land's End tweed loafers-- which are the single most expensive pair of shoes I own, mind you-- got all slushified. Yuck.
But it could always be worse. I could be living in Cormac McCarthy's The Road. Which would make an excellent winter reading book snuggled under the covers with the lights low and super chocolaty hot chocolate. Keeping things in perspective.
Another book I've been dying to buy:
This book pretty much describes me. Is it bad that I don't mind being pigeonholed like that?