Yesterday, I ordered a sandwich from the market near my office. When I was a quarter of the way through my sandwich, I realized that there was a hair in it. Most people, when they see a strange hair in their food, freak out. My thought was, “Oh, the guy who works at the grill seems like a nice enough person,” and I continued eating the sandwich happily (I did remove the hair however). And I think to myself a day later, “What is wrong with me?”

I just wanted to share this story. It has little to nothing to do with why I’m typing right now. What does have to do with why I’m typing right now is that I am bored. Just so you know, I write emails to myself at work that sometimes get posted onto my blog when I get home thus I am not blogging at work. So it’s 12:40 and nothing is happening except more snow is on the way. If you read this, you know that D.C. received 24” (roughly) of snow this weekend. And it sucked. A lot. We had no power for most of Saturday and part of Sunday and no internet/cable for all of Saturday and even more of Sunday. And again, it sucked. There are a few things that stress me out (a few means a lot). One of them is feeling trapped.

Ever since my longing for the open road last week, I’ve felt trapped. This winter has been so long. January and now the first week of February has dragged. I’m in the midst of the winter doldrums and I want out. Fast. This time though, 2 hours, 3 hours, 4 hours, well, it just ain’t enough. I want South Florida. I want San Diego . I want Phoenix. I want warmth. I want palm trees. I want sunshine.

What I’m instead getting is another foot of snow tonight. That’s more Metrorail closures. More power outages. More using cell phones as flashlights. More storing food in a cooler on the roof of my building.

There’s really only one relief from both this depressing scene and this depressing post: Pictures. Thank you Google. And if you’re sitting inside, waiting for spring and summer to return to wherever you are, find comfort in these: Fort Lauderdale, Ocean Beach, CA, Oahu.

Or, you know, you could always just run away…