I was going to walk to work today. I thought, “I need more connection with the outdoors. As it gets colder, I need to make sure I don’t get cabin fever.” Last night it snowed for the first time since I arrived in Minnesota, signaling the beginning of a winter I have longed for since I left four years ago. I’m sure “dreaded” is a more appropriate word, but that didn’t really occur to me. Like the extreme right-wingers who long for a lost Camelot of America – where everyone was nice, and white, and clean – but neglect the negatives, I had forgotten the less-than-positive aspects of Minnesota in November.

I was going to walk to work today. I thought about all the kids waiting for the school bus, the vendors setting up different shops, the farmer’s market slowly attracting customers, the goddamned dogs barking out of nowhere to scare the absolute shit out of anyone who is not fully concentrating 100% on their immediate surroundings.

I was going to walk to work today. “How cold can it be?” I thought dreamily. With all its faults, waking up in the morning to the soft light reflecting from the fresh snow through my window is hard to beat. Of course, I view the snow in a half-baked way, since I am surrounded by the warmth of my heated house and bed, and when I just wake up, I tend to see things much more mystically then normal.

The temperature is three. With the wind chill. Three. That should never be an appropriate gauge of temperature. At least double-digits, people! Give me 13 or something! But no. It’s three outside. My fingers run for cover in my jean pockets, constantly warding off frostbite. And I’ve been outside for all of thirty seconds.

I was going to walk to work today. I chose life instead.