Piteous Mymsie

I’m not normally a cold-natured person but it’s a different story at work. I always felt chilly in my old cube, even in the blazing summer months. My new office is far worse than my old digs, rendering my fingers completely numb. It’s like a walk-in freezer, viciously burning uncovered ground beef. I’m wracked with shivers so I never bother to take off my coat. You could hang meat in here! Several people have space heaters in their offices. I’m totally getting one or else I’ll be building a fire every morning. To express my angst, I wrote a profound poem which Ern suggested I share with you:

I used to think I would live to be old
Now I think I shall die from the cold
I guess that’s the way things around here work
I think I’d rather be a CVS clerk!

Good stuff, right? Why am I not the centerfold of the Poetry Magazine swimsuit issue?

Speaking of cold, my Dad recently saw a documentary about blizzards and told me the story of the Schoolhouse Blizzard of 1888. The terrible storm killed hundreds of people but a teacher named Minnie Freeman miraculously saved herself and seventeen students. The blizzard trapped them all in their schoolhouse. They first burned coal to keep warm and when that ran out, started burning desks. Eventually the door blew off the schoolhouse so Minnie tied a rope (some stories claim she used a clothesline) around her waist and then around each student’s waist, linking the group together. In the middle of the unrelenting, blinding snow, she safely lead the kids a mile away to her boarding house. She became a national hero! Isn’t that incredible and inspiring? I may have to perform a séance to rouse Minnie from the grave so she can lead me to a liquor store for some warming Brandy.

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