and then our exile

At this moment I should be outside jogging around the subdivision. But it's too cold. Frost everywhere. Crunching. Shivering. Frigidifying. Gelid. And so I stay inside. And shiver here. There is this urge for short little sentances that have a clearly defined beginning and a clearly defined end--simplicity provides warmth in frore times.

Last night, before I drifted off to sleep early this morning, I discovered some of the good things you can do with math. And nothing dealing with quadratics, either: i counted on my fingers, as I went through the hours of the night. ten--one. eleven--two. twelve--three. one--four. two--five. three--six. four--seven. and five--eight. ^_^ If i go to sleep at ten, I learned, I can get up at six, with eight hours of sleep. Eight hours. I am in shock. and awe.
^_^