Day 92: Yak It Up

Snow is forecast tonight. There's been a countdown of doom (big freeze, cold snap, Siberian front etc) in the papers over the last week, and tomorrow we are expected to wake up to fifteen centimetres of squeaky white. This afternoon I went up the road to the corner shop, and the streets were deserted. On a Saturday afternoon. Everyone has holed up, and there's a general air of expectancy. Waiting for those first flakes to fall.

Last year I bought some Yaktrax.  Ridiculous snow chains for shoes.  A decision fuelled by a month of shuffling along icy pavements like a tottery nan dreading a shattered hip.  The day I bought them, the ice thawed.  Yes.  I was directly responsible for the advent of spring. 

(In a similar vein, as a freelancer I have found that in periods of work-drought, the most reliable way to drum up business is not to work harder, but to book a holiday.  Thereby absolutely guaranteeing deus ex machina offers of work slap-bang in the middle of your chosen holiday dates.  You might consider cancelling the holiday in favour of the work.  Don't.  The work will then definitely be postponed, last minute, and you could have gone on the holiday anyway.  Always take the holiday.  Always.)

So - this week, I may not be looking forward to the driving conditions, but on two legs I will be all nimble.  Like a yak.     

Well, nimble-ish.  I ill-advisedly challenged myself to do 5k on the rowing machine yesterday.  Today it's hard to straighten out, let alone move.  My natural position is curled over, like one of those rubbish fortune-telling fish. 

'You are a prick.'