Think back to the first time you and your friends tried mixing all the sodas in the pop fountain. You watched each different fizz cascade into the 64 oz. Big Gulp, mesmerized as the cola-colored puddle metamorphosed into a rust-colored, guaranteed gut-buster of a beverage. You thought to yourself, "Is this a good idea?"

And if you're anything like me, you said, "What the hell," and took a sip and even as you felt your Cheetoes and chocolate milk crawling back up your throat (with just a hint of Dr. Pepper), you swore to all your friends--you swore to God--that it was the "best thing ever made, try it, you gotta try it, just try it." And in the end, after fighting back your lunch, you decided it wasn't really that bad. And you took another sip.

That's what life is like in mredison's neighborhood. Welcome.

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

Descended from Bears

Today's temperature during my bike ride into work: 22 degrees.

The shower at work isn't connected to the hot water heater, so after riding 40 minutes through the cold, I hopped into a cold shower. Having only towelled off after yesterday's rides, I needed a thorough washing.

After 10 minutes in the shower, I stepped out only to realize that the backroom in which they've cubby-holed the shower isn't heated, and, in fact, is colder than the cold shower stall.

I began this morning routine last week after getting sick of showering at home and smelling terrible when I got to work. At first, the cold shower made me hyperventilate and break out in goosebumps all over. But now I just take it in stride without severe physical reactions or excessive whining.
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