17 degrees is not a “high”

This is the thing about winter in the northeast: it’s cold. Not as cold as in the Midwest, where the winds build up over the lakes and the prairies and blow double digit negatives for more days than Noah sailed that ark. But still. Going out to the grocery store in 17 degree weather in the city becomes a task of monumental proportions, because I can’t just pop out to the garage and let the car warm up for ten minutes before I get in. Instead I find my hat and gloves (which tend to migrate to odd parts of the house, like the shelf in the bathroom where I keep my hairbrush) and hold my gloves in my teeth while I put on my hat. I take my coat and scarf from the hanger (gloves still in teeth, because if I put them down who knows where they’ll end up) and have to decide whether to put on the coat or the scarf first. This may sound like a simple decision. It is not. Complicating factors include what sort of sweater I am wearing and whether it has one of those big drape-y collars. I get into my coat, button it up, pull the hood of my scarf up over my hat, and wrap the ends around my face so that only my eyes are showing.

It is usually right about then that I realize I haven’t put my headphones in.

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Monkey Maintenance

Walking home from work the other day, on the phone with A, I got a strange look from the man in front of me.  I finished up the phone call with the usual lovey-dovey goodbye and looked up to find the guy still looking at me.

I realized that he probably thought I’d been expressing my undying love for him, so I held up my phone and said, “not you.”

He smiled, held up his phone, and said, “We’re on the same program.”

Square Pegs

We are (almost) moved in.  The movers came on Tuesday, two Estonians named Ingos and Ingos.  They arrived in a Penske rental truck, like a couple of guys we’d hired from the Home Depot parking lot instead of the licensed, bonded, insured moving company we’d been promised.  A says they were both very nice – apparently big Ingos apologized for the condition of our stuff (crushed boxes, covered in bird crap) and said ABM was terrible.  On the whole, it could have been much worse, but the headache and hassle wasn’t worth the $500 or so we ended up saving.

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