Lorem Ypsilanti

You know, I used to kind of like snow. As recently as mid-January I even was excited about snow. Maybe it was the 8 billion inches of snow that have fallen in the past two months, or maybe it's that I have to walk 0.5 miles in aforementioned snow each morning (because the path is not plowed until the afternoon) that has created an irrepressible snow antipathy within me. A half of a mile is not that much, I know, but when there is a foot of snow on the ground and you are going to work so you're not wearing your galoshes, that half a mile can make the difference between a happy commute and a commute in which you miss the commuter train by mere seconds and consider just hopping on the departing train, but being mind-read and yelled at by the conductor, and then having to wait in the cold for the next train, which isn't until 30 minutes later. My feet are cold.

My sister and I rescued a dog named A.J. but Lisa did not want to call the owners for some reason. I was really confused about her sudden shyness. She finally called the number on the tag, and the owner came and got him. Afterwards, my mom asked me about a hundred times if we put the dog in Lisa's car. This story was much better in my memory. Also, I am typing about two words per minute. I think I'm distracted. I'm trying to listen for my boss, because I need to flag him down to ask him if it's cool if I don't show up on Thursday or Friday. He walks so fast, and I only see him about three times a week anyway. I hear him much more often than I see him. He talks so loud and laughs a lot and bangs the tables in meeting rooms. He's very jovial and high-energy. I find it pleasant, but I can see how others would not love this. He sports a mean Boston accent and pronounces his name "Ritchid Ahht."