Saturday

I managed to escape the relentless savage of my own sloth, the warm embrace of Ikea sheets ("What's the thread count?" asked Diana. "Don't be a snob", I replied), and mild depression caused by frigid temperatures, and go out into the world today. More specifically, I made it into my 'hood, Ottensen, found a cafe, ate a pizza, and drank 0.2 liter of Coca Cola (mmmm, capitalism tastes delicious).

A few tables away, there's a pair of parents with a little kid, and the kid has been coughing for thirty minutes minutes straight. And not little dry throat, it's-that-time-of-the-year, something's-going-around coughing, but serious, phlegmy, choking on a fishbone, Heimlich maneuver, hocking-up-green-goo coughing. There is something inside this child, it's gooey, it wants out now, and it's trying to make a run for it via his esauphogus. I guess he isn't choking, because he's still managing to shovel pancakes in to his face while not turning blue. But goddamn. Either this kid hasn't yet learned how to swallow, or he's developing cystic fibrosis right here in front of everyone. And the parents are just looking right past it and into their newspapers. And I feel like yelling: oh my god, sweep his throat, smack his back, tell him to raise his arms above his head for crying out loud. 'Cause this has got to stop. When child services arrives, I will not defend you!

In other news, GODDAMN, it's been cold lately. We were several weeks into an oddly warm winter (temps in the 40s, which is no big deal if you've got a good coat) when suddenly, one afternoon, it dropped to 19. 19! That's cold. The difference between 40 and 19 is 21. But obviously, the difference manifests itself in other ways...

Water: you wash your hands in 40 degree water; you drop 19 degree water into a drink to keep it cool.

Bike riding: 40 degrees means you wear gloves, and a coat over your t-shirt. When you arrive, you're sweaty and you have to take off the coat immediately. 19 degrees means you add another layer in between, add a scarf, and put a hat under the helmet, and when you arrive you stand next to the radiator and wait patiently for you fingers to thaw out so you can take off the jacket.

Words, capitalizations, and punctuation: Jeez turns into FUCK, and you add an exclamation point, as in: FUCK, it's cold!

And it snowed for real for the first time all season (apparently it snowed a bit in December while I was gone, but it only lasted a few minutes). As usual, it was pretty for a few minutes, and then it was a slushly, muddy, messy, icy pain in the ass. I just can't get past my cynicism towards snow; sure it's pretty, and it's neat how it falls so quietly... and then when you have to leave your insulated office and do anything out doors, it's a thousand times more annoying than it should be. I never think of nature as vindictive, except for when it snows, melts, and freezes. I've fallen off my bike twice; you shouldn't need metal spikes in your bike tires, that's just not right.

But whatever, I'll figure it out. The sun is out today, so that makes it a lot easier to cope with the cold.