My day became a non-stop parade of context shifts and meetings, so now that the temperature has dropped to -20°C (with a wind chill of -31°C), I'm wondering just how important having cream in my coffee will be tomorrow morning.
Two other thoughts:
First, I lived through the winters of 1983-84 and 1984-85, the first notable for giving us 100 hours of sub--18°C temperatures ending Christmas morning, the second for giving us the all-time-lowest temperature in Chicago (-33°C). I didn't go to school on that day (20 January 1985), only because that day was a Sunday. We went to school the next day, though. We all survived.
Second, despite having had that experience as a child, I don't want to have it again. No. Forget it. We're having the coldest winter in a generation, and I'm tired of it.
You know, before this winter, I don't think I ever complained about winter weather on this blog. Sure, I posted about getting my car buried, and walking along a surreal Lake Shore Drive, but until the past few days I don't think I ever went negative.
Fuck that. This sucks. Five days in the Caribbean isn't long enough.
The temperature tumble that began yesterday evening seems to have leveled off. From 6pm yesterday to 6am today we had the steepest decline (17°C) with an abrupt plateau at sunrise this morning, now holding at -19°C.
I might have to leave the house this afternoon to pick up a couple of necessities, like cream. (Yes, it's worth braving the Arctic to get cream for my coffee tomorrow.) Otherwise, my office is closed for two days, and Parker's at day camp, so until his 9pm walk tonight I really have no reason to leave.
This is how I came to explain the phrase "stir-crazy" to a native Russian speaker over Skype this morning. I think we'll have some excellent examples of when our office re-opens Wednesday.