sick from a snow in March

Every year I find myself denying, nay, defying winter in March, and every year it knocks me over. A cold I suffer from presently, and with it memories of being bedridden and miserable. For I am miserable, quite upset. Not only is my body sore and tired and mostly uncooperative but my mind is also clouded and unable to think for enshrouded within a disagreeable fog it sits. After a day of sleep I find I cannot return to the land of slumber, so here I be, typing out vaguely coherent thoughts, wondering when I shall finally find rest? Saturday was the day I fought the law (of nature) and the law (of nature) won, me being both hatless and gloveless. The TTC, in its infinite wisdom, forced several delays and re-routings upon me. I suppose if I had any smarts I'd have taken a cab but pigheadedness won out, a pyrrhic victory. I'd actually welcome a nice warm fire right now.

It's a wonder that a city could function after such a heavy dumping of snow.

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