Excited?

13 degrees when I started the car.

The cat starts every day the same way:

Screaming at me, non-stop.

I have no idea what he wants. He likes to go outside but he has a “I don’t go outside when it’s cold” rule.

Then he wails at me because it’s not warm.

“I don’t like it either,” I remind him.

And it’s Monday. 

I’m not a huge fan of Monday either.

And still limping badly on a painful ankle.

No idea why.

I battle the cold all morning. Try my best to walk like a penguin so the ice don’t put me on my ass.

Constant phone calls they all start with, “Can you?”

Around noon I’ll get the first call from home.

“Any dinner ideas? How’s the ankle?”

“Chicken. Shitty,” I answer.

“You hear about the snowstorm?”

“Bah!”

And that’s February in a nutshell.

Cold, tired, sore and aggravated.

And then I run into a guy on a site who is all smiles.

“I love this weather!” He calls out. “I went ice fishing on Saturday and rode the sled all day Sunday.”

“Get away from me,” I said.

“It’s all about your state of mind,” he said. “You’re bringing yourself down.”

“I’m not doing it!” I said. “This f****ng blows! I’m not cutting a hole through the ice to catch a fish. I don’t even fish when it’s 80 degrees. Ain’t riding anything through the woods either. I play golf!”

“So go,” he said. “You can hit one shot and then spend the next four hours looking for your ball.”

At least I laughed at that.

Got home. In the dark. It had warmed up to 19 degrees.

The cat was wailing.

“What time is dinner?” Jake asked.

“Cheer up,” Sam said. “March Madness is 30 days away.”

That’s good, I guess.

Not all that excited.

Happy Snow Day!

Oh joy.