I'm on my fourth (and thankfully last) day of my conference in Montreal, and I am way past ready to go home. The talks that excited me on day one are now barely interesting enough to keep me awake, and my stomach is unhappy from too many unhealthy meals out. I have 25 minutes until my next (and last) talk, so I thought I'd share a few of my thoughts on how to optimize a conference experience. While they may not be interesting to anyone reading this, at the very least they might help me do better next time.
So...my advice:
1) Be selective: Attention spans (especially mine) are limited. Not even the calmest and least ADD person can be engaged for over 8 hours a day of lectures and poster sessions. Pick only the sessions that are most interesting and useful, and use the remaining time to nap or exercise or explore a new city (if it isn't fricking cold, like it is here now).
2) Consider going for only part of the conference: As a lifelong keener, it's hard for me to not participate in something from the opening until the bitter end. And as someone who is trying to live somewhat frugally, it feels like I'm only getting my money's worth if I stay for the entire conference. But the reality is that the best talks are rarely on the first or last day. In the end, I will have gone to only about two hours of talks on each of the first and last days, because there simply isn't that much of interest to me. I could've saved two nights away from home (and two nights of hotel/food costs) if I'd come only for the most useful days. (Not to mention the fact that I could've avoided cancelling three half days of clinic.)
3) Don't go to every conference: Again, this is difficult for me, because I want to stay knowledgeable and current, and conferences are generally a good way of doing that. But, being in a small field, the research doesn't change all that much in the 3-4 months between conferences. I think I'd actually be better off skipping some of the conferences and just dedicating a day to reading all the articles that are piling up in my "To Read" folder.
If you attend conferences, what other advice would you give?
Monday, February 29, 2016
Saturday, February 27, 2016
Gender
Since I read Cheryl Sandberg's book Lean In last summer, I have been hyper-aware of the ways in which men and women in medicine behave differently. I've noticed how men speak up more during lectures and stay at the microphone even after they've been told that the question period is over. I've seen how male residents give orders to nurses while female residents make requests. I've witnessed the self doubt of smart and talented female medical students contrasted with the cockiness of some not as smart and talented male medical students*. It saddens and frustrates me to see, time and time again, women reflexively and unconsciously making themselves smaller because they've internalized the message that they are somehow lesser. (And men making themselves bigger because they believe that they're greater.)
This morning I went to an educational session in which these gendered behaviour patterns were on full display. The session was led by one male physician and one female physician, both of whom are well-respected in their fields and have similarly impressive CVs. Although they were supposed to be equal co-chairs, the man completely dominated the session. He read not only his introductory slides, but also hers. He answered all of the questions without even acknowledging that his co-chair might have an opinion that she wanted to add. The few times that she managed to start answering the question before him, he interrupted her to finish the answer. And then, partway through the session, he deviated from the planned presentation and, without asking permission from his co-chair, started showing his own set of slides on his area of research.
I was livid! I couldn't believe how blatantly disrespectful he was to his colleague. And the worst thing for me was, I suspect I was the only person in the room who noticed. We're so accustomed to this pattern of male dominance and female submission that we don't even bat an eye at it. Even though the voice of another smart and talented woman was completely silenced in the process.
I'm still livid.
*In case it needs to be stated, I don't think that female medical students are inherently smarter and/or more talented than male students. I've simply observed that women in medicine tend to underestimate their abilities, while many men do the opposite.
This morning I went to an educational session in which these gendered behaviour patterns were on full display. The session was led by one male physician and one female physician, both of whom are well-respected in their fields and have similarly impressive CVs. Although they were supposed to be equal co-chairs, the man completely dominated the session. He read not only his introductory slides, but also hers. He answered all of the questions without even acknowledging that his co-chair might have an opinion that she wanted to add. The few times that she managed to start answering the question before him, he interrupted her to finish the answer. And then, partway through the session, he deviated from the planned presentation and, without asking permission from his co-chair, started showing his own set of slides on his area of research.
I was livid! I couldn't believe how blatantly disrespectful he was to his colleague. And the worst thing for me was, I suspect I was the only person in the room who noticed. We're so accustomed to this pattern of male dominance and female submission that we don't even bat an eye at it. Even though the voice of another smart and talented woman was completely silenced in the process.
I'm still livid.
*In case it needs to be stated, I don't think that female medical students are inherently smarter and/or more talented than male students. I've simply observed that women in medicine tend to underestimate their abilities, while many men do the opposite.
Thursday, February 25, 2016
Montreal
I'm sitting in a hotel room in Montreal, awaiting dinner with a friend (in 1 hour) and the start of a conference (tomorrow morning), and I am struggling to write one of the blog posts that has been floating around in my brain for the past few weeks. I want to write about how it feels to be six months into my work as an attending, about my struggles to start up a research program, or about my recent two-year anniversary, but all my brain and body want to do is rest. In the past two weeks, I've taken on three extra clinics and an extra weekend of call, and while my net worth is very happy about the additional work, the rest of me is not. I'm exhausted.
This past weekend, my girlfriend and I had a long discussion about careers and life goals and what is important to us. Both of us want to do work that is meaningful and that hopefully makes the world a slightly less miserable place, but we also want to have full lives outside of our work. We want to sleep in on weekends and cook good homemade food and read books and knit*. And maybe even do productive things like exercise and clean our messy apartment. If we run out of fun things to do, that is.
At the moment, it feels like what I want to do is always in conflict with what I need to do (work). I wish at times (always) that I could go back a decade and live more frugally so that I would have actual money now, instead of debt, and would feel like I could take more time to myself. I keep hoping that hitting the zero net worth mark will bring about a major change in how I feel and how I approach work. I'm hoping that it will make me feel okay with saying no to the extra clinic time and the extra weekends of call. Because while I like my job, I love my life outside of it more.
*Well, I want to knit. Specifically this, in a gorgeous grey yarn that is ridiculously expensive but will be worth it because it will undoubtedly take me at least six months to knit the scarf, thus keeping the cost per hour of knitting very, very low.
This past weekend, my girlfriend and I had a long discussion about careers and life goals and what is important to us. Both of us want to do work that is meaningful and that hopefully makes the world a slightly less miserable place, but we also want to have full lives outside of our work. We want to sleep in on weekends and cook good homemade food and read books and knit*. And maybe even do productive things like exercise and clean our messy apartment. If we run out of fun things to do, that is.
At the moment, it feels like what I want to do is always in conflict with what I need to do (work). I wish at times (always) that I could go back a decade and live more frugally so that I would have actual money now, instead of debt, and would feel like I could take more time to myself. I keep hoping that hitting the zero net worth mark will bring about a major change in how I feel and how I approach work. I'm hoping that it will make me feel okay with saying no to the extra clinic time and the extra weekends of call. Because while I like my job, I love my life outside of it more.
*Well, I want to knit. Specifically this, in a gorgeous grey yarn that is ridiculously expensive but will be worth it because it will undoubtedly take me at least six months to knit the scarf, thus keeping the cost per hour of knitting very, very low.
Saturday, February 13, 2016
Student Debt Identity
When I was in San Francisco two years ago, immediately before I met my girlfriend in person for the first time, I visited a small bookstore in the city's gay district (The Castro). It was the kind of cozy, inviting bookstore that encouraged leisurely browsing, which is exactly what I did for my last few hours in the city. I checked out the staff favourites; I discretely flipped through LGBTQ books that would make Dan Savage blush; and I somehow resisted the enormous selection of magnets and mugs and bookmarks that I'm usually suckered into buying. In the end, despite finding a large collection of books that wanted to come home with me, I managed to leave with only one: Tiny Beautiful Things, by Cheryl Strayed.
If you have never read this book, you should go out and do so immediately. And don't take it out from the library (although I love libraries): buy it so that you can read it over and over and over again. The book is a collection of articles from the "Dear Sugar" online advice column that Strayed used to write, and it is easily the best advice column I've ever read. She addresses every topic from romance (of course) to friendship to finances to body image to life's purpose, and she does so in a way that is wise and frank and kind and simply amazing. I loved the book so much that I finished it on the red-eye from San Francisco (instead of resting up for my date when I got home), and I have read it cover to cover two additional times. When I picked it up to start writing this blog post, I had a hard time not reading it a fourth time.
Anyway...this is not supposed to be a post about the genius of Cheryl Strayed but rather a post inspired by one of her responses as "Dear Sugar". In one of the letters she received, a young woman wrote about her desire to go to graduate school and her frustration about having to incur additional student debt to do so because her parents didn't have the means to put her through school. In one line that stuck with me, the woman stated "[M]ore often than not, I am defined by my 'student loan identity'." Strayed's response surprised me a bit. She seemed to diminish the woman's concerns about debt, and she encouraged her to strongly consider graduate school despite the cost. In addressing the woman's concerns about the psychological aspect of debt, she said "I don't even known what a student loan identity is. Do you? What is a student loan identity?"
As I sit here, months away from having a positive net worth for the first time in almost a decade, and another decade away from having my debts payed off, I know exactly what a student loan identity is. A student loan identity is waking up every morning and thinking about how much you still owe. It's feeling like every dollar you earn is already accounted for and that none of it is actually yours. It's saying yes to extra clinics and extra weekends of call because you're bloody tired of being in the red. It's feeling like every decision you make has to be based on the financial implications, rather than on what you most want to do in your heart. No matter what my rational brain tells me about the wisdom of my decision to go to medical school or the long-term financial security that I will enjoy, my lizard brain keeps fixating on my student loan and the long road between me and debt repayment.
I wish I could be more Zen about my debt and just accept that it's there and will be for a long time, but I can't seem to get past the sensation of OH MY GOD, MY HAIR IS ON FIRE! I can't seem to stop questioning every purchase, wondering if I can somehow live without $20 a bag cat litter and train my cats to use the toilet. (The answer to that question is a resounding no.) I can't seem to say no to any opportunity to make extra money, no matter how tired or stressed I may be making myself.
More than anything, I just want to be back in the black.
If you have never read this book, you should go out and do so immediately. And don't take it out from the library (although I love libraries): buy it so that you can read it over and over and over again. The book is a collection of articles from the "Dear Sugar" online advice column that Strayed used to write, and it is easily the best advice column I've ever read. She addresses every topic from romance (of course) to friendship to finances to body image to life's purpose, and she does so in a way that is wise and frank and kind and simply amazing. I loved the book so much that I finished it on the red-eye from San Francisco (instead of resting up for my date when I got home), and I have read it cover to cover two additional times. When I picked it up to start writing this blog post, I had a hard time not reading it a fourth time.
Anyway...this is not supposed to be a post about the genius of Cheryl Strayed but rather a post inspired by one of her responses as "Dear Sugar". In one of the letters she received, a young woman wrote about her desire to go to graduate school and her frustration about having to incur additional student debt to do so because her parents didn't have the means to put her through school. In one line that stuck with me, the woman stated "[M]ore often than not, I am defined by my 'student loan identity'." Strayed's response surprised me a bit. She seemed to diminish the woman's concerns about debt, and she encouraged her to strongly consider graduate school despite the cost. In addressing the woman's concerns about the psychological aspect of debt, she said "I don't even known what a student loan identity is. Do you? What is a student loan identity?"
As I sit here, months away from having a positive net worth for the first time in almost a decade, and another decade away from having my debts payed off, I know exactly what a student loan identity is. A student loan identity is waking up every morning and thinking about how much you still owe. It's feeling like every dollar you earn is already accounted for and that none of it is actually yours. It's saying yes to extra clinics and extra weekends of call because you're bloody tired of being in the red. It's feeling like every decision you make has to be based on the financial implications, rather than on what you most want to do in your heart. No matter what my rational brain tells me about the wisdom of my decision to go to medical school or the long-term financial security that I will enjoy, my lizard brain keeps fixating on my student loan and the long road between me and debt repayment.
I wish I could be more Zen about my debt and just accept that it's there and will be for a long time, but I can't seem to get past the sensation of OH MY GOD, MY HAIR IS ON FIRE! I can't seem to stop questioning every purchase, wondering if I can somehow live without $20 a bag cat litter and train my cats to use the toilet. (The answer to that question is a resounding no.) I can't seem to say no to any opportunity to make extra money, no matter how tired or stressed I may be making myself.
More than anything, I just want to be back in the black.
Friday, February 5, 2016
Friday Night
For the past few weeks, I have been taking on an extra half day clinic per week to address the seemingly never-ending list of people who need to be seen. While I actually kind of enjoy the extra clinical work, I don't enjoy having more paperwork to do and less time in which to do it. By the beginning of yesterday, my desk was piled high with charts to dictate and phone messages to return and labs to review. I have no clinics on Thursdays, so I spent the entire day in my office slowly crossing things off my to-do list.
It still wasn't enough.
After clinic today, I ate lunch while dictating charts, and then I left the hospital to go to the other clinic where I work once a week. And did more paperwork there.
I'm still not done.
I'm really hoping that, with experience, I will get faster at dealing with paperwork, because it is currently taking up almost all of my non-clinical time. Time that I should be spending developing a research program (*ha*) or preparing presentations or teaching. Fun things. Non paperwork things. It also exhausts me in a way that no other aspect of my work does, because I need to focus carefully on what I'm doing despite how tedious and dull it is.
Thankfully, it's Friday, and for the next two days I can forget about the 45 dictations* that are sitting in my inbox waiting to be signed off on. Tomorrow the girlfriend and I are heading to an independent cinema in our pjs to watch Saturday morning cartoons and eat sugary cereal. Then on Sunday, I'm doing social activity #2** for the week and taking my nieces to a play about Harriet Tubman. After I go for a run in keeping with my goal to work out three times a week. And there will be sleep. Lots and lots of glorious sleep.
I need this weekend.
*Literally. Shit.
**Social activity #1 was dinner with my mom and my brother for part of a week-long promotion in which restaurants serve three-course meals at a discount. The conversation was good, but the food was really underwhelming (including inadequately cleaned shrimp *shudder*).
It still wasn't enough.
After clinic today, I ate lunch while dictating charts, and then I left the hospital to go to the other clinic where I work once a week. And did more paperwork there.
I'm still not done.
I'm really hoping that, with experience, I will get faster at dealing with paperwork, because it is currently taking up almost all of my non-clinical time. Time that I should be spending developing a research program (*ha*) or preparing presentations or teaching. Fun things. Non paperwork things. It also exhausts me in a way that no other aspect of my work does, because I need to focus carefully on what I'm doing despite how tedious and dull it is.
Thankfully, it's Friday, and for the next two days I can forget about the 45 dictations* that are sitting in my inbox waiting to be signed off on. Tomorrow the girlfriend and I are heading to an independent cinema in our pjs to watch Saturday morning cartoons and eat sugary cereal. Then on Sunday, I'm doing social activity #2** for the week and taking my nieces to a play about Harriet Tubman. After I go for a run in keeping with my goal to work out three times a week. And there will be sleep. Lots and lots of glorious sleep.
I need this weekend.
*Literally. Shit.
**Social activity #1 was dinner with my mom and my brother for part of a week-long promotion in which restaurants serve three-course meals at a discount. The conversation was good, but the food was really underwhelming (including inadequately cleaned shrimp *shudder*).
Thursday, January 28, 2016
Goals: Review of January/Plan for February
Well...
My main goal for January, if you remember, was to go to the gym three times per week. I think the best phrase to describe my performance is epic fail. In total, I think I made it five times. And the fifth only happened because my girlfriend resisted my desperate pleas to stay in the warm bed this morning and dragged me to the gym.
Part of the failure wasn't my fault. Soon after recovering from my horrible Christmas cold, at approximately the time when my chapped nostrils were starting to heal and I was getting used to being able to breathe without choking on phlegm, I got another cold. So for at least 3-4 days I didn't have the respiratory function to run on the treadmill. The rest of the failure was clearly my fault. Some of the excuses I used for skipping the gym included not getting enough sleep, feeling groggy from getting too much sleep, the bed is warm, and of course "I don't want to".
I don't know how to do better. While my resolve is generally good when I'm thinking about going to the gym during the day, it is abysmal at 6:45 in the morning when the room is dark and I am buried under my favourite duvet. I'm hopeful that my girlfriend will be a positive influence, as she has committed to working out regularly, and she's vastly better at sticking to habits than I am. (She still wears her retainer at night. Over a decade after her braces came off. I think I might have done that for a month, if that.) I know that it isn't enough to rely on my girlfriend's commitment, but maybe her encouragement will help me in the early stages of developing this habit.
Recycled February goal: Go to the gym three days a week.
My other January goal was to find a counselor. Success! Thanks to a service for physicians, I've actually been able to get an appointment with a psychiatrist for an initial assessment next week. I'm a bit nervous about it because 1) it's in the hospital where I work and 2) I know some of the psychiatrists who are on the treatment team. I can't say I like the possibility that someone I know, or worse yet one of my colleagues, could find out about this. But...I believe very strongly that we shouldn't stigmatize mental illness, particularly in medical professionals, and one of the ways of breaking down the stigma is to show that good, competent physicians can struggle with mental health issues. So I'm just going to suck it up and do it.
Second February goal: Don't chicken out and skip the assessment with the psychiatrist.
Because it's rather boring to just recycle old goals, I'm setting one new big goal for the month. I wrote recently about how much I hate winter, and my hatred just seems to grow as the season continues with no sign of an end. Despite my plans to embrace winter, I've been doing a spectacular job of staying home on my couch, which isn't doing anything to make me a happier person. So, I've set myself a goal of making two social plans with friends or family for every week in February. It doesn't matter what it is, as long as it requires me to change out of my sweatpants and spend time with another person. And it can't just be my girlfriend or friends of my girlfriend, as I'm way too reliant on her for social interactions (a problem when introverts date extroverts, and something I've been meaning to blog about for a while). It has to be someone whose primary connection is to me.
It's been kind of fun to brainstorm things that I can do over the next month. While restaurants and movies will undoubtedly feature heavily in my plans, I'm also thinking about taking my nieces to a play, having friends over for games, and hosting a potluck. And maybe even going skating with friends in an attempt to get over my hatred of this miserable season.
Any other creative ideas?
Third February goal: Spend time with people I love. At least twice a week. The girlfriend doesn't count.
My main goal for January, if you remember, was to go to the gym three times per week. I think the best phrase to describe my performance is epic fail. In total, I think I made it five times. And the fifth only happened because my girlfriend resisted my desperate pleas to stay in the warm bed this morning and dragged me to the gym.
Part of the failure wasn't my fault. Soon after recovering from my horrible Christmas cold, at approximately the time when my chapped nostrils were starting to heal and I was getting used to being able to breathe without choking on phlegm, I got another cold. So for at least 3-4 days I didn't have the respiratory function to run on the treadmill. The rest of the failure was clearly my fault. Some of the excuses I used for skipping the gym included not getting enough sleep, feeling groggy from getting too much sleep, the bed is warm, and of course "I don't want to".
I don't know how to do better. While my resolve is generally good when I'm thinking about going to the gym during the day, it is abysmal at 6:45 in the morning when the room is dark and I am buried under my favourite duvet. I'm hopeful that my girlfriend will be a positive influence, as she has committed to working out regularly, and she's vastly better at sticking to habits than I am. (She still wears her retainer at night. Over a decade after her braces came off. I think I might have done that for a month, if that.) I know that it isn't enough to rely on my girlfriend's commitment, but maybe her encouragement will help me in the early stages of developing this habit.
Recycled February goal: Go to the gym three days a week.
My other January goal was to find a counselor. Success! Thanks to a service for physicians, I've actually been able to get an appointment with a psychiatrist for an initial assessment next week. I'm a bit nervous about it because 1) it's in the hospital where I work and 2) I know some of the psychiatrists who are on the treatment team. I can't say I like the possibility that someone I know, or worse yet one of my colleagues, could find out about this. But...I believe very strongly that we shouldn't stigmatize mental illness, particularly in medical professionals, and one of the ways of breaking down the stigma is to show that good, competent physicians can struggle with mental health issues. So I'm just going to suck it up and do it.
Second February goal: Don't chicken out and skip the assessment with the psychiatrist.
Because it's rather boring to just recycle old goals, I'm setting one new big goal for the month. I wrote recently about how much I hate winter, and my hatred just seems to grow as the season continues with no sign of an end. Despite my plans to embrace winter, I've been doing a spectacular job of staying home on my couch, which isn't doing anything to make me a happier person. So, I've set myself a goal of making two social plans with friends or family for every week in February. It doesn't matter what it is, as long as it requires me to change out of my sweatpants and spend time with another person. And it can't just be my girlfriend or friends of my girlfriend, as I'm way too reliant on her for social interactions (a problem when introverts date extroverts, and something I've been meaning to blog about for a while). It has to be someone whose primary connection is to me.
It's been kind of fun to brainstorm things that I can do over the next month. While restaurants and movies will undoubtedly feature heavily in my plans, I'm also thinking about taking my nieces to a play, having friends over for games, and hosting a potluck. And maybe even going skating with friends in an attempt to get over my hatred of this miserable season.
Any other creative ideas?
Third February goal: Spend time with people I love. At least twice a week. The girlfriend doesn't count.
Monday, January 18, 2016
How to Survive a Canadian Winter
I'm suffering from a horrible case of winter blahs at the moment. Until a few weeks ago, we were having a very mild winter (0 to -10 C on most days), and it seemed completely bearable. Then the weather dropped into the -20 to -40 C range, and everything started to feel unpleasant. Our apartment never quite warms up, despite the heaters running continuously. My skin freezes in an instant if I go outside without it fully covered. And nothing feels quite worth going outside, no matter how fun or smothered in cheese it might be.
My instinct at this time of year is to cocoon myself in bed with cats, hot chocolate, and a pile of library books. I have zero desire to work or to do any of the things necessary for maintaining my existence. Laundry? Groceries? Dishes? All of these things seem like too much effort when the outside world is frigid and the daylight disappears before I leave the hospital. Every year I long to bypass these months, even though I recognize the finite nature of life and theoretically want to enjoy every precious moment of it. For me, there is nothing precious about -40 C before the windchill*.
This year is about being present though, which includes being present during the loathsome months between Christmas and the Spring melt. So I'm trying to come up with ways of not being miserable until March. Some of the things I've come up with?
Long johns**: My girlfriend made me buy a pair of long johns last year, and they may be the only thing that keeps us from killing each other when the weather is cold. (She is a crazy person who thinks that people should go outside despite the cold. She is very wrong.) Winter is slightly more bearable when I have long johns and an undershirt and a down jacket and a toque to keep the warmth inside.
The Conservatory: Our local zoo has a plant conservatory, which is a rather unimpressive greenhouse filled with the type of tropical plants that you can buy at Walmart. But! It is ridiculously hot inside, and it has a glass ceiling, so visiting it in the Winter can feel just the tiniest bit like being outside in a warm place.
Winter foods: Soups, stews, and casseroles smothered with cheese. Warm and hearty things from my kitchen are all that keep me going on some days.
Hot tub: I'm spoiled and live in a building with an indoor hot tub. I really must spend more time warming my frozen bones in it.
Skating: I haven't yet mustered up the strength to do this, but it seems like it would be good for me to get outside and participate in something Wintery. Maybe I would hate Winter less if I actually enjoyed something about it. Cross-country skiing is also a thought, and it would take advantage of the flatness of the region in which I live.
Sigh. I don't think this list is helping. I want to go to street festivals and run along the river and sit on a patio drinking overpriced cocktails. Nothing about winter seems pleasant right now. Maybe I should just blow my budget and go to Mexico.
If you have the misfortune of living somewhere that is frigidly cold right now, how do you manage to be happy despite the weather? Or do you give up on being happy and just treat Winter like a horribly bad call shift and wait for it to pass?
*If you live someplace warm and don't know what a windchill is, I kind of hate you.
**Are there people who aren't familiar with long johns? And toques? I hate all of you.
My instinct at this time of year is to cocoon myself in bed with cats, hot chocolate, and a pile of library books. I have zero desire to work or to do any of the things necessary for maintaining my existence. Laundry? Groceries? Dishes? All of these things seem like too much effort when the outside world is frigid and the daylight disappears before I leave the hospital. Every year I long to bypass these months, even though I recognize the finite nature of life and theoretically want to enjoy every precious moment of it. For me, there is nothing precious about -40 C before the windchill*.
This year is about being present though, which includes being present during the loathsome months between Christmas and the Spring melt. So I'm trying to come up with ways of not being miserable until March. Some of the things I've come up with?
Long johns**: My girlfriend made me buy a pair of long johns last year, and they may be the only thing that keeps us from killing each other when the weather is cold. (She is a crazy person who thinks that people should go outside despite the cold. She is very wrong.) Winter is slightly more bearable when I have long johns and an undershirt and a down jacket and a toque to keep the warmth inside.
The Conservatory: Our local zoo has a plant conservatory, which is a rather unimpressive greenhouse filled with the type of tropical plants that you can buy at Walmart. But! It is ridiculously hot inside, and it has a glass ceiling, so visiting it in the Winter can feel just the tiniest bit like being outside in a warm place.
Winter foods: Soups, stews, and casseroles smothered with cheese. Warm and hearty things from my kitchen are all that keep me going on some days.
Hot tub: I'm spoiled and live in a building with an indoor hot tub. I really must spend more time warming my frozen bones in it.
Skating: I haven't yet mustered up the strength to do this, but it seems like it would be good for me to get outside and participate in something Wintery. Maybe I would hate Winter less if I actually enjoyed something about it. Cross-country skiing is also a thought, and it would take advantage of the flatness of the region in which I live.
Sigh. I don't think this list is helping. I want to go to street festivals and run along the river and sit on a patio drinking overpriced cocktails. Nothing about winter seems pleasant right now. Maybe I should just blow my budget and go to Mexico.
If you have the misfortune of living somewhere that is frigidly cold right now, how do you manage to be happy despite the weather? Or do you give up on being happy and just treat Winter like a horribly bad call shift and wait for it to pass?
*If you live someplace warm and don't know what a windchill is, I kind of hate you.
**Are there people who aren't familiar with long johns? And toques? I hate all of you.
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