until someone loses an eye
I've been playing a little game with myself the last few days entitled "It's Too Cold to Blank." Its recent incarnations have included some sensible things, like tonight's It's Too Cold to Watch TV (the ground floor of 17-- Wouldn't-you-like-to-know,-you-internet-stalker,-you Street is basically unheated during the winter). Also, It's Too Cold to Go Buy Milk for Hot Chocolate, Let's Have Tea Instead and It's Too Cold to Go for a Walk in the Snow. [Look at this thing the Post has now -- the expert snow yardstick says six inches so far.]

But I've now expanded this game to other, less sensible things. The most recent includes It's Too Cold to Go to the Gym Tomorrow Morning. There are several reasons why this is not OK. One is that the gym is very near to my house -- as in visible from my window. I could have walked there and back about 13 times in the amount of time it just took me to write this paragraph. Another is that the gym is, not surprisingly, indoors. If I had to run on the elliptical thingie in some kind of outdoor arctic courtyard like a hearty Norweigan cross-country skiier with blond pigtails and a Saint Bernard, perhaps Too Cold would be a valid reason. It is not.

Here are some more miscellaneous phrases I thought or said tonight: It's Too Cold to Talk About Politics, It's Too Cold to Drink Water, It's Too Cold to Take Another Look at the Faulty Code of Your Web Site, and It's Too Cold to Read This Book About How People Who Live in the Oklahoma Panhandle Are Not Cold. Don't look for any explanations; I can't provide them.

Damn, it's cold. And I'm going to the damn gym tomorrow morning, damn it. I bet those guys driving the snowplows down the damn street every 30 damn seconds are pretty unhappy. It's Too Cold to Drive a Damn Snowplow.