Why am I writing this on a Sunday night instead of the usual Monday morning? Because it is so cold that the CEO of the Fortune 100 Company I work for has already shut the whole place down tomorrow, and this is a company that is run by a CEO who isn't from some equatorial country (in all honesty, there is nothing wrong with people from equatorial countries; it's just they might have a bit of intolerance to cold) but one who in fact is from SWEDEN, a country that is far more northern than us here in Minnesota (honestly, Minneapolis-St. Paul is on the same parallel as southern France!).
So how cold is it? It is so cold that
- roosters were rushing into Kentucky Fried Chicken and begging to use the pressure cooker
- when I dialed 911, a recorded message said to phone back in the spring
- pickpockets were sticking their hands in strangers' pockets just to keep them warm
- we pulled everything out of the freezer and huddled inside it to warm up
I'll write something more serious on Tuesday, assuming that Satan hasn't put on ice skates between now and then. And if that happens, well, we've all made our own promises of about what would happen in that eventuality; I just hope you don't have settle that score. I know I don't.