Ok, chickens, the thermometer is telling me that it’s just slightly warmer out there than it was yesterday, but I’ve been inside for almost 70 hours and I’ve got cabin fever.
So BW and I are breaking out, dressed in a million layers, and heading to work.
I may regret this decision later, but I need to get myself back among the living.
Yesterday, I finished all kinds of things I’ve been meaning to finish, which tends to happen when you’re in a condo with no one else and not in an office full of distractions.
After I shut it down for the day, JW made it home, peeled off several of his face-protecting layers, and joined the teens (who had stopped by- I think even they’re starting to get bored of a winter break that won’t quit) and me in our hot chocolate and cookie eating coma.
They stayed for dinner, where I fed them arugula pesto with brown rice pasta, but when asked what we were making, copped only to the answer “pesto.”
Sometimes it’s better to keep it vague. They ate everything and went back for seconds, and I finished them off with another round of cookies, so I’m calling it a huge success.
One movie and four sleepy adults (or near adults, anyway) later, we called in the polar vortex night.
And now I’m off to see how I do in the freeze. Wish me luck, chickadees, and stay warm out there.