It's always darkest before the dawn, right? Right?? RIGHT???

This would be the part where you nod your head sagely and say, "Oh yes, always darkest before the dawn." A little sympathetic shoulder patting followed by some soothing "There theres" would not be remiss, either.

Oh, and let me just say right here right now that there's no room for any, "Yes, but ..." type statements where you tell me some horrific story about how you thought things couldn't possibly get worse And Then They Got Worse.

Today I am a fragile blossom. Today I need reassurance.

It began when I opened my eyes and looked up through the skylight to see large, wet snowflakes leisurely falling to earth and melting. Winter. Winter is coming.

Oh CRAP.

Look, intellectually I know winter is coming but that doesn't stop me from secretly hoping deep, deep in my heart that somehow winter will get lost, not find its way to where I live and we'll segue right from fall to spring.

Oh be quiet. Maybe it could happen.

Then I got out of bed and stumbled sleepily downstairs and forgot that the knotty pine that will one day be the ceiling of my office was recently stacked in our already overflowing kitchen. I stubbed my foot on it as I rounded the corner towards the bathroom. Forget singling out one toe--I whomped them all, but good.

Oh CRAP.

And when I turned on the kitchen light all the mess and confusion that is our house just overwhelmed me. We have all the stuff that used to be in my office in boxes everywhere. Now we're moving in a buttload of building materials to start the finishing work in my office. There is tentest, gyproc, insulation, thermax, electrical equipment, baseboard heaters, the aforementioned knotty pine, more wood for mouldings, the new flooring �

It's mess and confusion with no end in sight. We've been waiting for the electrician to come to hook up the new wiring so we can start insulating that room and he's been putting us off. And it's cold now. And cold is coming into our livingroom through the plastic that separates it from the uninsulated, unheated room that will eventually be my office but right now is just insanely ugly.

Oh CRAP.

So I did what any mature, adult person would do. I went into the bathroom, turned on the shower and had a little weep in it, counting on the sound of the water to drown out the sound of me crying. There's no point in fighting with the spousal unit about this--he's doing his very best. There's no point in making him feel badly about this, because it's out of his hands. As for my poor little stubbed piggies, well, there's really nothing much you can do for boo boo toes.

So I let the warm, soapy water wash away my tears, frustration, and grime. I always feel much better after crying. I pity the tripods for having to be strong and manly, for being told that crying is for sissies. I don't know what I would do if I didn't have the safety valve of tears.

I could have moped around here and let myself get completely wound up again about the situation, but I decided that would be a waste of time. So I headed out and bought a winter's worth of non-perishables. Once the snow sets in we close our road and we're only accessible by foot or snowmobile. It makes sense to stock up now with all the essentials when they can be easily brought in by car.

Oh, and I went to the paint store. After dithering for a good 30 minutes and fingering all 5,489 colours that M*rth* Stew*rt offers, I bought two gallons of a pale yellow paint called heirloom rose as a promise to myself that soon enough that cold, empty, ugly room will be transformed into a warm, bright, airy, welcoming place.

It's always darkest before the dawn.

Right?

--Marn

Mileage on the Marnometer: 472.34 miles (760.1 kilometers)

Goal for 2003: 500 miles - 804.5 kilometers