Yeah, so it's true what they say. It's cold. The dog pee in the street is frozen stiff but minutes from the wizzer. Fingertips don't want to punch buttons, faces would rather not smile, then really want to smile then rather not smile again. Ears burn no matter how thick the hat. Of course, if you happen to live in a rather drafty apartment like mine, where the warmth of cruddy heaters mingles seamlessly with the seeping wind chill, you sleep great in a cozy cocoon of half warmth, sanguine with the knowledge of how bad it actually could be.
This may be the starting bell of the second round that follows what could be considered an extremely long first round ( the first round being everything that has come before.) Dukes up and eyes bright, move your feet not always forward.
A few things to remember:
Every time you paddle out, simply expect there to be something scary lurking in the dank black, unfathomable fathoms. Because it's there. Don't fool yourself into thinking you're alone. You are always in the presence of something more acquainted than you and you might as well get used to being the most uncomfortable bobbing bit of flotsam in the water. Better to get comfortable with this early, late or anytime.
Don't feel too bad if you're unwittingly the one who messed up that lovely single feeder line, barging unknowingly upon the cash register, forcing everyone to rethink their mindful acquiescence to the norm. Yeah, the single feeder line was a better idea, a more equanimous solution, but really the three lines that have now formed in front of each register isn't hurting anyone. Just pay more attention next time.
Imagine yourself a jellyfish, gently drifting with the most obscure and ineffectual of self-propulsion amid the gooey soft center of a filled donut. You exert only the most minimal and weak control in this jammy gunk of nature, corruption and ignoramity. Be at peace with the jelly. Yours and its.