Tales of Summer

Why I Hate Winter, part 857,634,192:

I hesitated to even tell this story, but after much thought, I figured what the hell.

Let me preface this by saying that winter has once again descended on Valley Forge in a nasty vengeful way. It was a lovely -9 degrees F yesterday, figuring in the wind chill factor (and I do as it determines the number of layers I wear before leaving the confines of my house).

I had decided that even though it was colder than most of my ex-boyfriend's hearts, I had to leave work long enough to pick up lunch. I eat mostly salads for lunch, and I have this thing about my salads being fresh, and different. So I often trot off to a nearby salad place. The ingredients are always fresh, and trust me on this one, always different. You see, the guys that work there don't speak English. I'm not even sure if they can read English. Sometimes ordering can seem like a true test of will, stamina, and sanity. I can order a spinach salad and end up with Caesar. The salad that is, not the guy behind the counter.

What I enjoy even more than salad, is coffee. Yes, I am a coffeeholic, I admit it. I usually have several cups from the time I get to work, until lunchtime. This means that I do not dawdle on the round trip to get my lunch!

Once I got back to our building, it was inevitable that on this very bitterly cold and windy day, I had to park somewhere around New Jersey. I do own a scarf and gloves, several pair in fact, but they don't seem to care for me. They always seem to be hiding and never where I left them last!

Anyway, by the time I got into the building, I was practically a Joeycicle. I got to my office, dropped the salad on the desk, and ran to the restroom. I was about to use the sink to warm up my hands, but Mama Destino always warned me that that was a bad idea- something about causing the skin cells to die, and my skin falling off (and you wonder why I need therapy!). But there was no time to wait for my hands to warm up. I had to go, and I had to go now. So with knees clenched I made it to the urinal, unzipped, and reached in. My boss decided to pick that moment to come in the restroom door. The resultant screams of profanity in a high pitched voice that came out of my throat, and the look of terror on my boss' face is something I won't forget for a long time. At least he's let me alone today!