Wednesday, February 5, 2014
I can just imagine Rob in the spirit world, laughing and dancing around in the snow, happy as a clam. He and Frank Zappa are probably are throwing snowballs at each other and singing, Don't You Eat That Yellow Snow.
Me, I was outside for only twenty minutes, grumbling and cursing this wretched, cold, evil white stuff that fell resolutely from the bleak sky and held my wheelchair in place like glue. Inwardly, I swore at people who passed quickly by without a glance or an offer of help. To those who did, indeed, offer assistance, I waned to hug them and French kiss them (is that too much?) to demonstrate how grateful I was.
In the end, I knew if I kept going onward I'd be ridiculously late and would miss my appointment with the grief counsellor. So, I went back home and called the councellor to reschedule, and I sent Simone out to get me a peppermint mocha frappuccino.
Kids would call this a snow day, where they could play and have fun. Me, I got caught up on email, arranged shifts for Saturday at St.Lawrence Market, and ordered some merchandise. Maybe after dinner I'll do a bit of painting. That's my kind of fun!
Is it Spring yet?