the lost man chronicles
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a half-fool hardy morning

including me, there were now six brave souls on the bus.

of course, i really didn't believe i deserved that much credit, but at six o'clock in the morning with at least six inches of unplowed snow to trudge through, i immediately brokered amends between reality and my imagination, and continued onward with my adventure.

because although i knew i was only making my way back to work, i had to make the most of it. for this winter has been rather unkind, cruel almost, with its unrelenting cold and sticky tenacity. all too often the word "complain" has creeped up and come to mind. but i knew, and i go on knowing, that as long as it keeps on snowing, it would do me no good to mutter, to grumble, to materialize this hiemal vexation.

hence, i convinced myself that i was on a mission, feeling half-foolish and a quarter courageous, as we passed mountains of white parking lots, and i pretended to be proudly part of a caravan which had never been so empty.

for whilst half the world still laid asleep in denial, debating in their dreams whether or not a little inconvenience and a lot of powder merited a "sick" day, i was on my way to a half-empty office.

and although he lives but a few blocks away from our building, i told myself if my boss tardies, as i was fully expected him to, i would take advantage and play (i.e. write) a little longer.

and maybe i'd write about how humorous was my hubris which had foolhardily deceived my ego into believing that my journey into work was worthy of praise, because everyone else had so sensibly stayed home!

"including me, there were now six naïve saps on the bus…"

"Any fool can criticize, condemn, and complain, and most fools do."
~ Benjamin Franklin

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