refusal of acceptance.

I’m up and at ’em early this morning, heading straight into a long day of meetings and an easy night of yoga and dinner.

My biggest concern is getting out there and facing the elements again.

Someone explain to me why it is acceptable for it to be so cold in mid-November.

Yeah, I didn’t think you guys got it either.

I’m still walking around in my “level one” coat, the one that doesn’t come down to my calves and is non-puffy.

Despite the fact that it’s frigid out there, I just can’t take it upon myself to bust out my most serious coat.

I feel like it would mean I’m giving into the universe on the subject of “is this weather acceptable?”

I know this isn’t really my smartest move, but it’s making me hustle between bus stops, that’s for sure.

This weekend: I begrudgingly locate the rest of my seasonal weather arsenal, including my mittens, which are, in general, lost somewhere.

In the meantime, I’m off to hit those meetings, slug through hump day, and escape into a dark room to stretch it out for at least an hour.

There are certainly worse ways to spend the middle of your week, chickadees.

Stay warm out there.

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