March

My travel agent just fell off the face of the earth. This is particularly annoying when you realize February only has 28 days and all of a sudden, it's one month closer to the Big Trip. Holy cow.

I am cold. I was warm. It was in the mid-40s today, after 3 or so inches of snow yesterday. I had desperately hoped for a snow day, so I could sleep in and snuggle up with the boy (whom I hate to leave every morning). Alas, the weather was just miserable enough that I got my dress pants wet in the snow and spent 10 minutes scraping ice off the car. At least it gave me a chance to do something I've grown to love doing but don't do very often - shovel!

Now why I would despise cleaning snow off the car but look forward so to shoveling... beats me. I have to stand out in the cold either way and freeze like a popsicle, which is never fun. But the sweeping motion of a shovel, how cathartic it is see the driveway clean and flat again... ahhh. Scraping ice is an activity above the waist; snow gets everywhere, especially on black wool coats, then melts when you're in the car, leaving nasty wet surprises when you tug on your coat to keep warm. Shoveling! It's mucking around at your feet, as methodical as sweeping (dividing the area into grids and sections), perfect for the OCD-afflicted. None of the reaching and stretching around the contour of your car - just wide, flat surfaces, like spreading butter over bread. I'm still an amateur, of course, and I'm sure if either of the two men in the building watched me through the window, they would smack their foreheads. But I do it my way, and no matter how long it takes, the job gets done.

After the debauchery of Mardi Gras and Carnival, Lent begins today with Ash Wednesday. My sisters are officially Alpha Chi Omega. The sun no longer sets at 6pm. Spring collections are out in stores.

I miss a warm, humid thunderstorm.