Somewhere, in the last day or so, I read that Chicago has gotten 50+ inches of snow in each of the last four winters. That breaks a record or something. I thought, "Huh. I don't remember last year being that bad. The year before that was bad. And the year before that was bloody terrible."
Well, Hello. Last year was the first time that I ever took a real, live, mid-winter vacation. And I am going back tomorrow.
Don't try to rob my house. I have a dog, a cat, a mother and a security system.
I am bringing the Kindle. Four back issues of Vanity Fair. Four DVDs that I haven't watched yet (which only puts a dent in the stack). And an audio book. That ought to do it.