An alarm goes off somewhere in the house. The deep-seated reaction to bolt upright regardless of dreams or nightmares is instantly repressed. I acknowledge it's existence with a smile each time. I am not the poor sonofabitch being called out of the comforts of bed.

I have been lying in bed for so long that I don't know how long. The need to pee, talk to a human or remember why I don't want to go outside will occasionally rouse me. But those needs quickly pass and find me cuddled under layers of blankets watching Metalocalypse and reading Valley of the Dolls.

This weather is my punishment for wishing for it. The phrase "be careful what you wish for" can grow an ass, then cram itself up it. We'll ignore the fact that this is Canada, and lay all the blame for this winter directly on me.

The memory of snow is always more delicious than the reality.

I remember running along packed snow to glide gracefully across a frozen parking lot.

I fell down and smashed my knee.

I remember snow balls and heavily built up fortifications.

It would seem that we do not own a shovel anymore. ncmt has been clearing the walk with a hoe.

I remember winter drives that would both terrify and delight.

The TTC is packed. Do you know what packed public transit smells like? Yea, try blocking that memory out sometime soon.

I can go on, bitterly, but I am losing the train of thought.

My eyes will glaze over and focus on a spot just beyond the drywall. If I had the right superpowers I'd be able to see the rotting 2x4's holding up the house. Instead, my mind takes a quick break and heads over to the corner store for a candy bar.

Adult Swim cartoons, classic pop culture novels, drupal CMS and sexcapades aren't really providing the most stimulating mental challenges. To be honest, I don't really mind. At least I'm not outside. At least I'm not at work.

I miss misslake.