Making do

*Beeeeeeep*  The train doors open.

I squeeze out into the cold.  Hubert looks frostbitten today.  There isn't even a hint of sunrise peeking between the buildings but the sky is violently clear with a bright gash of moon and pricks of stars.

 The brave OccupyMN souls are still sleeping outdoors every night.  I wish them well in my head.  I can't imagine any kind of cold weather camping, much less sleeping in the cold without a tent.  If the temperature in my bedroom falls below 65 I swear my extremities go numb and I can start to see my breath.

I'm not happy about being back on the train.  The day before I tried to start my scooter in the morning and she wasn't having any of it, even after having the battery conditioner plugged in for twenty minutes.  I conceded and walked to the bus stop in defeat.  It's frustrating when the afternoon highs are hovering around 50-60 degrees.

So I am forced to embrace the cold.  I do so grudgingly.  I take the cold, smash it into a ball, and stuff it down into my solar plexus much like I do with the heat and light of the summer sun.  It's like stoking the coals of a fire.  The pain of the cold brings focus.  The focus brings strength.

I pick up my pace.