43 Degrees? Thanks, I’ll Pass.

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When I walked out of Trader Joe’s today, I could actually see my breath.  And since it was only 43 degrees, I guess that makes sense.  This confirms my decision to get the heck outta here come Sunday.

Actually, this confirms my decision: by the time I walked from work to home today, I had four missed calls from my grandmother.  I figured something was wrong; she must have fallen or is in the hospital or something (I’m a proven worrywart).  I immediately called her back, only to hear her say she was just calling because she realized that in a few days, we’d be on the beach having a cocktail (don’t threaten Hazel with a good cocktail!) and she was very, very excited.

Whew.

So for the next few days, I’ll bundle up and tolerate the cold because soon I will be on the beach, cocktail in hand, chatting it up with my 94 year old BFF.

Weather Woes

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When I left work last night, I was greeted by thunder, lightening, and a torrential downpour.  I was soaked by the time I ran the 10 feet into a waiting cab.

Yes, it’s late April.  Yes, temperatures have dropped over 50 degrees since that glorious Sunday.  And yes, I have now gotten exactly 5 months of use out of my winter coat.

Chicago, you’re making it so hard to love you right now.

Dreaming of days like this…