Brr. It's Just Me.

No point in sugarcoating this one: It's a bitch of a winter we're having over here.  The wind chill has stayed above zero for the most part, but I'm still running to indoor, heated sanctuaries every chance I get.  Piercing cold winters are routine parts of the East coast experience, but I think I got too comfortable with the milder winters of the past few years.  My spoiled body finds it a nuisance to don wool socks before crawling under the weight of four blankets at bedtime.  It's true: I curl up into the fetal position every night under the protection of first a flat sheet, then a comforter, a wool blanket on top of that, and then a dense cotton blanket at the very top.  The weight of the cotton helps keep the pile of blankets from moving around too much at night.  Have I shared one too many boring details of my winter bed's textile choices?  Perhaps.  Have I shared useless information?  Most certainly.  But there it is in all its mundane glory anyway.

This, I took by accident earlier tonight.  My frozen fingers were having a fantastic time trying to get my phone's screen to respond to my touch.  If the train hadn't whirred by at this very moment, you would most certainly have been spared this rather dreary reflection of yours truly.

Stay warm out there.

UWS.  Manhattan. Tonight.