morning
Predawn Nov 30. The light creeping in past the blinds is oddly fluorescent, white moonlight and orange sodium streetlamps reflecting off the snow and the pearl grey overcast sky. The cars lined up along the street are hunched silhouettes, snow obscuring all details (except the clouds of exhaust piping out the back as the owners desperately try to warm them). Two cups of coffee dont do much to prepare me and my fingers are often clumsy inside my gloves as I pull the door shut and lock up behind myself. I know I'm running late if the paper is already here, half covered in grainy drifts. (If I dont knock all the snow off of it before I toss it inside it will become soggy and stick together when it melts.) The wind hits me like a slap, and I can feel my skin tightening as the moisture is pulled out of my cheeks and they start to redden. If I breathe through my nose, my nosehairs freeze together, and if I breathe through my mouth, my exhalations fog then freeze my glasses and I become blind.(Not breathing doesnt work, I've tried it.)Snow has so many different sounds, but my least favorite is the high pitched squeaky crunch under my feet. (My favorite is the deep wet blue quiet you get when fat flakes are blanketing everything.)The colder it gets, the harder it is to turn the key in my car door, and I dont really know how I'd thaw it if it did freeze. You have to open the door in a very specific way so that the snow piled along the doorseam doesnt blow in and cover the drivers seat, it melts quickly when a nice warm ass sits on it, and can be embarrassing. Scraping the windows and that awful squeal raises goosebumps on my arms. If I'm quick I can be back in the car before my fingers go numb. Rock and roll on high volume warms up the inside of the car along with the defroster and I chairboogie for the first few miles to keep my blood flowing. By the time I get to my equipment pickup the windows are clear and my breath isnt foggy anymore, so I count that as when my workday starts.