Writing Wrongs

February 03, 2007

It’s minus nine degrees here and my kids want to go to Cold Stone Creamery to eat ice cream. No joke.

It’s minus nine degrees here and if my kids can’t go to Cold Stone Creamery, they want to go sledding or to the park. Double no joke.

It’s minus nine degrees here and my car died in the parking ramp the other day, as in, sorry, I’m going to bleed power steering fluid all over the cement died.

It’s minus nine degrees here and the car dealership from whence I’m leasing said car has never put together the words customer and service into a sentence. Possibly, never in the same paragraph.

It’s minus nine degrees here and thanks to some work friends, said car is now in good hands. That’s the good news.

It’s minus nine degrees here and the diagnosis has something to do with pressure gauges and “blowing.” That’s the bad news.

It’s minus nine degrees here and the whole going places next week thing is going to be a challenge.

It’s minus nine degrees here and I’m seriously thinking of getting MacKenna out of her current situation (grounded for life) and to prom (still grounded, only a little less so). I hear it’s warm at prom.

It’s minus nine degrees here, it’s one of those winter days where the sun blinds and it looks warmer than it actually is.

It’s minus nine degrees here … I hope it’s warmer where you are.

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Charity Tahmaseb wrote at 12:38 p.m.

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