Eskimo Prose

Ah fall....that bonny time of year when the trees are glorious
for one day, and then 4 inches of snow causes all the leaves and branches to fall onto the power lines. So I'm not a huge fan of fall. But can you blame me? It's 26 degrees outside. Not really what I call balmy.

I'm really looking forward to another six months of not being able to feel my fingers. Someday, I must really learn how to produce heat! The only time during the day when I am truly warm is when I'm boiling myself in the shower. Much like a lizard, sunning itself on a warm rock, I stand in the shower and slowly thaw under the blistering water. The sharp pain in my feet informing me that i do, indeed, still own toes.

Perhaps you have heard the part of Jill's Theory of Everything about why Thursday is the worst day of the week: I'm just as tired as a Friday, but unlike Friday, there is no hope. Fall has a very similar problem: I'm cold like a winter, but instead of having spring to look forward too, I've just got more and worse winter coming up. Soon 26 degrees won't seem so bad after a month of waking up to negative temps. As Dante said, "Abandon hope all ye who enter here." Except, as I recall, the Inferno was warm!

Getting out of warm covers every day to shiver violently in my car is a stupid idea. And it's getting stupider with each passing day. I'm really beginning to think that the animal kingdom has the right idea: hibernation. So, if you need me between now and say, April, I'll be looking into becoming a bear.