Monday, December 13th, 2010

The degrees are two. Those are the degrees. There are so few degrees that it wouldn’t make much difference if there were any fewer, except that I would have to change to the singular verb if there were one degree all by itself. I’m not sure what to use with zero. I think at that point we just say “Zero” through clenched teeth and stomp our feet.

According to those guys who for some reason get paid to look at satellite pictures of weather, we are supposed to get as many as eleven degrees today. See? It doesn’t make any difference, does it? Two degrees, eleven degrees, I’m not going out for a walk during my lunch break either way. Besides being insufferably cold, if I tripped and fell, I’d probably freeze solid before I bounced. I could die! On my lunch break! From the cold!

When it gets like this My Darling B keeps asking me why we moved to Wisconsin after I retired from the air force, instead of some place warmer, like Siberia. “Because I like the seasons,” I tell her, an answer that makes as much sense as anything else I could tell her when it’s two degrees. Two. Freaking. Degrees.

Two | 6:16 am CST
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