*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.