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alonewiththemoonI hate my doctor's office. I don't hate my doctor. I don't even hate the secretaries and receptionists. I do however hate the antiquated inefficient system that allows appointments (like, say the one I had this morning) to fall through the cracks and not get booked. I stood at the receptionist's desk back in October, made today's appointment, and wrote it down in my calendar. I show up today, nope, not in the system. I feel 100 percent certain the receptionist screwed up, but I'm not that mad at her personally--the system makes it easy, likely even, that mistakes will be made. This was for my last foot shot and I really wanted to have this done by the new year, for a symbolic new beginning. Now I have to wait until January. Waiting for the train to go back to work, I was so frustrated by this I was ready to cry, but luckily I stopped myself, otherwise my eyeballs would have frozen.
I have no exciting storm stories, other than my bus hitting a snowbank yesterday morning and the T being so screwed up last night that I gave up on the buses out of Alewife and walked home, to the apparent horror of some random stranger who joined my conversation with the randomly-encountered fudjo . Even though it was very cold, it ended up being quite pleasant, much nicer than being on a jam-packed bus full of cranky people sitting on Route 16 going nowhere. The night was clear and quiet, no sound except the snow crunching under my feet--not quite as good as snow squeaking under your feet, but still pretty good. I didn't see any bunnies, but I did see their tracks. The Minuteman bike path is plowed in Arlington and I believe also Lexington, for those who might use it. There's a bit of black ice in the spots that get partial sun, but the full sun areas are bare pavement and the no sun areas are nicely packed snow, all in all in much better shape than the sidewalks and even many of the roads. I walked again this morning and expect that will have been the most pleasant interlude of this day. Not many people were around and I was reminded of cutting through Parc Mont Royal to get to McGill's campus when I lived in Montreal's Plateau. Weather like we have been having over the last few days is par for the course in December in Montreal, just an average weekend, and the city doesn't shut down or go into panic mode or do anything particularly out of the ordinary. I miss that stoicism. Mon pays, ce n'est pas un pays, c'est l'hiver.
One night this last weekend as I lay in bed reading before falling asleep, Ianto climbed up into the bed all on his own and curled up under the covers next to me. Fluffy noodley sweetness! Sisiutl's been doing this for a while but it's new for him.
Much work to do at work. I should do it. Then cookies to bake tonight. And maybe a pie.
I have no exciting storm stories, other than my bus hitting a snowbank yesterday morning and the T being so screwed up last night that I gave up on the buses out of Alewife and walked home, to the apparent horror of some random stranger who joined my conversation with the randomly-encountered fudjo . Even though it was very cold, it ended up being quite pleasant, much nicer than being on a jam-packed bus full of cranky people sitting on Route 16 going nowhere. The night was clear and quiet, no sound except the snow crunching under my feet--not quite as good as snow squeaking under your feet, but still pretty good. I didn't see any bunnies, but I did see their tracks. The Minuteman bike path is plowed in Arlington and I believe also Lexington, for those who might use it. There's a bit of black ice in the spots that get partial sun, but the full sun areas are bare pavement and the no sun areas are nicely packed snow, all in all in much better shape than the sidewalks and even many of the roads. I walked again this morning and expect that will have been the most pleasant interlude of this day. Not many people were around and I was reminded of cutting through Parc Mont Royal to get to McGill's campus when I lived in Montreal's Plateau. Weather like we have been having over the last few days is par for the course in December in Montreal, just an average weekend, and the city doesn't shut down or go into panic mode or do anything particularly out of the ordinary. I miss that stoicism. Mon pays, ce n'est pas un pays, c'est l'hiver.
One night this last weekend as I lay in bed reading before falling asleep, Ianto climbed up into the bed all on his own and curled up under the covers next to me. Fluffy noodley sweetness! Sisiutl's been doing this for a while but it's new for him.
Much work to do at work. I should do it. Then cookies to bake tonight. And maybe a pie.
