You think I’m afraid of you, oncoming storm? Hell no. In the aftermath of a minor domestic argument (a concept that Cougar charmingly calls “a domestic”) yesterday I covered every piece of frost-bitable flesh and threw a jacket on the dog (yes, he has one, don’t mock; 12-lb dogs need jackets in subzero weather), and took a walk in the cold tundra at about 8 last night. I cooled my heels figuratively, but not literally. I didn’t spend my college years in the Upper Midwest for nothing, people.
This morning, the windchill is about eight degrees below what the fuck, and I’m inside chipping away at a couple mountains of work that need to be done. I have the house to myself for a few hours. The domestic argument has been soothed away. I went for a walk last night rather than having a drink. Drink less, exercise, get shit done. Day 3. I’m not happy about it (January, like this post, is a slog), but it’s coming along.
What are you slogging through?