Busy Season

When Nate and I met there was an over usage of the word CRAZY. You can imagine. Last weekend we went and got his hair cut and then ran to the grocery store on our way home. The stylist at the salon thought Nate was a hoot. She couldn't stop laughing. She was glad to have him as her final client of the day. Then, the woman checking us out at the grocery store got a real kick out of Nate. She said, "Do you have fun with him?" As in, "Is he always this goofy, happy?!" The answer, "YES." Especially during busy season when his mind is literally going crazy, so on the weekends (when he isn't working) he can unwind and be a kid.

The craziness sometimes has an adverse affect on me, but other times I can't help but feel like this during busy season:

"i miss you like CRAZY, my mind is all HAZY, without you i'm LAZY, i didn't think you leaving would FAZE ME, i could write poems for you all DAYZEE, i'm running out of things that rhyme with CRAZY, but i love you and you never cease to AMAZE ME!" (by the creative powers of Bre Rutledge)

It doesn't help that the weather is like this . . .

All I want to do is sip some Max Brenner hot chocolate and cuddle up and hibernate until Spring. Only 45 more days! Now that I've put off my homework for another 45 minutes, here I go!

What's Wrong With This Picture?

So on my way home from work yesterday I saw a man riding his unicycle in the snow. Really?! The woman beside me turned to me and said, "At first I thought he was riding a regular bike with no hands and I thought that was stupid." We shook our heads in agreement and went our separate New York ways. Who does that? I'm sure he crashed into a heap of snow or drowned in a puddle.

When I was about 2 blocks from home icicles suddenly started crashing down from trees. I thought I was going to die. I put my backpack (Yes, I'm cool and I wear a backpack!) over my head and ran. I have 3 fears about living in NYC: 1) That a tree might fall on me, 2) That an icicle might fall on me, and 3) Black cars...also known as car services. I still fear riding in them alone. It took me months before I would ride in a taxi by myself. This is coming from the girl who was terrified to drive at 16 and never liked to pump her own gas--a story for another day. Maybe I should move to Jersey? I hear they're not allowed to pump their own gas there.

After all of this snow, still no SNOW days off work. It's unfortunate. Word to the wise: Don't underestimate the depth of puddles around here. It's risky!