No place for hiding baby, no place to run, you pull the trigger of my love gun

It took me forever to chip the ice off my windshield this morning. I didn't expect to have to deal with this frigid winter wasteland this early on. Everything about the weather smacks of February or March. It's bullshit and I don't like it. And there's not a damn thing I can do about it. I suppose I could move to a warmer climate, but how could I abandon the children at the orphanage?
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Spira and I went out for Greek food last night and then hung out in front of the fireplace at Starbucks. I usually don't go to Starbucks, but I had one of the best coffee drinks there. I got a peppermint, white chocolate latte. It was either that or an eggnog latte, but, in the end, there was really no choice. Spira got the eggnog and, though she enjoyed it, she lamented her choice once she had a sip of my drink.


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For some reason, I thought I'd be able to take a run yesterday. After dressing for the occasion, I stepped outside and quickly realized that, unless I wanted to break a bone or two slipping on the ice, there would be no running. Later, driving on Mass Ave, I saw a woman jogging. A braver soul than I, that one. I bet she's in the hospital with a broken hip and jaw.

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Still feel a little strange about my work situation. Do I need to walk on eggshells? Could the slightest misstep cost me my job? As was evident over the weekend, I certainly don't have much in the way of job security, but if I'm too timid about doing my job, if I'm fretting over every action I take, then I won't be an effective employee, or mentally stable for that matter. No, I've got to play it cool. Just like the Fonz.

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There was a grim cast to my day today, so I tried to balance things out by directing my thoughts to rosier places. It seemed to work; I haven't hurt myself yet. Actually, if you count teasing, then I guess I have hurt myself; but only a little. I thought about all sorts of things, from the seemingly insignificant to the big and important. Into the soup was stirred images of friends past and present,; a film I was looking forward to watching; a restaurant I wanted to go to; her, and her effortless ability to render me dreamy and weakened every time I see or talk to her; a recalled scene from The Office; you name it. I don't know how much of an effect these thoughts had on my physiology, but it was better than moping.