What's worse than math?

Aftermath.

I'm a card, folks, a regular Gracie Allen over here.

Truly, though, today was so much worse than yesterday. Last night as I slogged through the slush and ate at a favorite diner and watched an interesting play and then played and chatted and drank too wine into the wee hours of the morning with a friend I wasn't really bothered by the snow and sleet and all. It was relatively warm, I had my winter "blister in progress" boots on and the snow was moveable, it was a minor challenge and made the world a bit like a carnival ride.

This morning, on under 5 hours of sleep, the whole thing was less amusing. It got cold last night. Super cold. Like degrees Kelvin kind of cold. OK, not that cold, but really cold. So what was an inch of snow here and a 6 inch pile of slush there is now hardened to slippery rock proportions. I woke, I washed, I hydrated and I decided I would be late to work. Nothing monumental but I wasn't going to sweat the small stuff. I also wasn't going to be walking, I was going to wait and take the bus.

What followed was an odyssey of my normal 20 minute walk punctuated by prolonged hopeful waits at every bus stop and short sessions of cursing like the proverbial sailor as 5 (5!) chockablock full buses passed me by. Faced with waiting in the cold and being a worrisome amount late to work I ended up walking the whole way. Facing into the wind to boot. The only thing keeping me amused was watching everyone else deal. One kid walking to the local high school had poked tiny eye holes in his regular knit hat and pulled the whole damn thing over his face. People were cleaning their stoops and digging out their cars but no one had the right tool for the job. Over the course of the morning I saw people use cardboard boxes for traction, a windshield scrape and high heel combo as a pick and shovel and, my personal favorite, a putty knife.

My train ride was not as simple and human-free as I'd hoped considering my tardiness but I did get a short catnap before I switched to the local at Grand Central. Grabbed my seat on the local in time to hear the platform announcer summon the police to our train. At which point I resigned myself to getting to work in time for lunch because, though it's only another 10 minute walk from Grand Central to work, I just wasn't having any of it. Apparently, though, whatever police action was required at our platform did not require our train to stay and I slogged in to work at the half hour late mark.

Tonight includes a walk to a space on 26th Street between 10th & 11th Avenues. When they build wind tunnels for movies the prototype they work off is any street on the west side of Manhattan between 9th & 11th Avenues and between October and April.

Good times.

I'm looking forward to the workshop, though, 'cause I need to figure out a way not to be an office worker anymore. It's cutting into my post-show socializing and that's just not OK.