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28 January 2009 @ 10:33 pm
just you just you just you just you...  
At dawn, the stretchy crotch of my long underwear hangs low between my frigid thighs and the tips of my toes against the chilly floor go white as Greta's winter fingers. In my drowsy shower-steam fictions I wander the aisles of HPP carrying giardiniera peppers.

Though the steamy clouds of daybreak are nearly scalding to my toes, once they roll up to my face and away from me they instantaneously crystallise against the frosty windows of the bathroom. Still dreamy, I contemplate chocolate bars with names like Renew and wonder if today will be the first day I buy a black and white cookie in the checkout line.

Soon though, I'm awake and clean, and the little cashier has vanished along with his dark sparky eyes. Instead, in his place I am met with snow, miles of snow rolling out across the lake. It's dotted with tents and remnants of bonfires, but Lake Mendota is still too expansive in its winter garb, and I miss the summer.

My arms feel strangely as if they are full of bottles of peppers while I bike to work, and when the fluorescent whine of my office raises the roots of my body hair, I drown it in the deep, clean bass drums and broad swooping instrumentals of sunny sweaty summer music festivals long past. 

But my toes are still so cold.

Music: the national, m83, animal collective
katheye on February 1st, 2009 10:51 pm (UTC)
This is a good reminder as I mourn the rapid passing of my favorite season in the Lone Star state to be careful what I wish for. Not all winters are as balmy as the short temperate season here in which I briefly come fully alive... Sorry about your toes. You're welcome to soak them in our hot tub any time =P