and I can get out of this cold! I realize I have become a big wimp. I moved here in 1979 — right after the infamous winter of 1978, when people were being buried in their cars by the snow plows in Rochester, NY. I lived just south of there in Geneva, NY — right on Seneca Lake, largest of the Finger Lakes. They had to bring dump trucks and bucket loaders into town to load up the snow and take it down to dump in the lake, as there was no where to pile it. Remember phone booths? Those little rooms with the folding/sliding doors that we used to get into to make a phone call when we were not at home? Well, the one at the corner of the parking lot where I lived was buried in snow. You could not find it. Of course, you couldn’t really see out the windows of my apartment, because the icicles hung down so far and so thickly that they blocked the view. The boys in the apartment next door and I played cards with our mittens and scarves on and talked about the wind chill factor INSIDE our apartments! When I first arrived in Eugene, I laughed at people in their down parkas (remember those jackets that made you look like the Michelin Man? — geez, I’m OLD) when it was a toasty 30 degrees. Now I’m one of them. No, I don’t have a Michelin Man coat, but I am bundled in my long underwear, gloves, coat zipped up to cover half my face, artic 180s earmuffs, all in an effort to keep me from toppling over and shattering like a big icicle. And it only got down to 21 last night! Bahamas here I come. I am only too ready to go. I need warmth, I need fun, I need laughter. I strongly suspect that my weight loss surgery has prevented me from fully absorbing my anti-depressant along with my food. My mood has been gloomy, mirky and sluggish for a couple of months now. I have to yank myself out of this morass I have climbed down into. Should I not be rejuvenated when I return from the cruise, I will have to discuss an alternative with my doctor. At least I recognize that I’m being an old poop. That’s half the battle they say, don’t you think?
I need to register my fun pass on the ship, so they can charge me for anything I happen to buy on board. Right now, I’m planning that there will be a massage charged to that account. I’ve also promised Kimmy that I’ll be having one of those beverages with an umbrella in it. Probably not any alcohol in it, but an umbrella nonetheless. Well, time to get back to work now. Groan – no wonder I’m depressed!