Slow Ride

So I’m feeling a little bit of self-envy right now.  What does that mean? 

That  means I’m envying my old self, just for a minute.  The old me who used to drive from the warm underground of my Willowdale condo building into the warm underground at the Rogers compound at Jarvis and Bloor in Toronto.  The one who never had to put on a winter boot and often left her coat in the car so as to not dampen my brow on the trot down the tunnel from the garage to the elevators.  The one who was carried on satin pillow compared to what I’m facing this morning as the snow mixes with rain and gets tossed around by the wind.   I now park in my driveway and drive downtown to where I have a spot a couple of blocks from where I work. Not a big deal at all. I’ve invested in good snow-proof boots and I’m almost mentally prepared for the minor inconvenience of slushing along the street with the rest of the 9-5 lemmings!   And I’m remembering the luxury of never having to experience the workday weather unless I really wanted to.