Under duress, I probably could have made it into work these past two days but when the weather gets bad, I trust my own driving more than I trust the drivers around me. This point is emphasized even more when I see all the cars roaring out of their parking lots with a tiny porthole chipped out of the ice on their windshields, like the drivers believe they're in some futuristic speeder race where they can take out their opponents by launching thick sheafs of ice onto the racetrack.

The drive this morning was fine, if stately, and for the first time in weeks, I didn't see the valiant biker-guy of Route 28 with his flickering safety light cycling at a steady seventy-five miles per hour slower than the surrounding traffic. I'm not sure why he'd want to bike up such a dangerous road before the sun comes up -- perhaps its his way of communing with nature.

Kitty starred in a musical last night:

Happy Birthday Jack!

Yesterday's notable search terms:

real treasure chests, posters of the lost continent mu, the oak island shaft, south american praying mantis scientific name, idealistic thoughts on marriage, essay describing a jungle scene