Stress in its purest form: 700 words and thick ice.

The pace of today has been on par with the slippery-ness of the ice packed down on the sidewalks and less-traveled roads (e.g. my route to work). It snowed yesterday, and while the news reported my area got 4 1/2 inches, I beg to differ; I set my coke can down on someone’s snowy hood, to see how deep it was, and it sank well below the snow level until I had to dig it out again. So, deep. I love it, except for the ice part; this is the first time this season that it’s snowed and then stayed below freezing for more than a day. Yesterday the high was something like 15. No worries, I worked from home in front of the fire, but today was almost worse, though the main roads have been cleared. At least my car thought so; it is dead again. The brand new battery I bought about six weeks ago is completely out of juice, for whatever reason. I’ve about had it. I might get the dealer to replace it and then go trade the whole car in for something new and shiny. Something with AWD, that won’t slip around as much on ice-packed snow. Something that smells pretty and makes my heart beat faster every morning when I slide inside and buckle up. Oh, the thrill of my 7-minute commute, in a new car. It is going to ROCK.

Anyway… I didn’t have time to deal with the dead car today as AAA was backed up, and I’m off tomorrow anyway, so I bummed a ride to work, as I will home, and will deal with it tomorrow. In the meantime, between now (4:00pm) and the morning, I have a 4-page brochure to write. Yes. Thus my comment about the pace. The prospect is making my stomach hurt, but I tend to work well under extreme pressure, so Pulitzer baby, HERE I COME!!! Haha! Ha. ha…

Jess has spent an unhealthy amount of time stretched out two inches from the fire, all four feet touching the hot metal grate, tail lazily flicking as his insides slowly bake to a crisp. Crispy kitty.

that is all.