Annah. On Ice.

It's never been more evident why some of the greatest writers have gone to the Caribbean to write their best pieces of work. Writing under a mountain of snow and ice is fucking hard.

I want to blog, guys. I do. But between long work days and this weather laden with high winds and rain and something called "wintry mix" also known as the devil's fury my ability to be funny or even mildly amusing is flushed down the toilet along with Rocky Balboa's kitty litter poop. Yesterday I woke up with every intention to walk to work and was greeted by this.

I called the taxi company and got through on my twenty-first try. The wait was two hours and I decided to brave the cold and walk the few blocks to the Reunion Tower which is where I'm working. I had a pep in my step and was ready to take on the world when I exited John's building with my coat and thick winter scarf in tow. I wasn't three steps into my walk when I slid on ice and fell on my ass, sliding halfway down the block. A homeless man had the kind heart to pick me up and say "You gotta be more careful with them there boots, sweetheart."

It's painfully obvious I'm from Florida because no one with half a brain would attempt to walk on ice with fashionable cowboy boots (unless they were planning to ice-skate to work). It took me half an hour to walk to the corner and finally realize I'd never make it. I considered taking off my shoes and walking to the only restaurant that was open across the street.

Instead I just stood there on the verge of tears feeling hopeless. I half crawled, half stomped back to the building only to find out it was closed. I then realized my fingers were purple and immobile under the shitty gloves I'd brought with me from Miami. The building next to John's was open and I took refuge in it, thanking God for his wintry grace. I sat on the floor like a bum and waited for my co-worker to come and pick me up.

She took two hours.

After my shift, I got home and concluded I was delusional when I said I'd love to move somewhere cold. Also, I'm really happy I'm not a bird.

Rocky Balboa agrees.