Jesus Hitler Christ, it's frigid. Frigid enough to cancel all the Madison schools - not for snow, but solely for the temperature. Frankly, it's kind of a relief to know that I'll never be as cold ever in the rest of my life as I was walking from the #15 bus stop to the Natatorium for floor-hockey sign-up. Six blocks of 40-below-zero windchill that, despite four layers of warm clothes, chills you right down to your soul. It was almost far, far worse - it turns out the Nat doesn't officially open until 6:30, but a nice janitor let some other guys in a half-hour early, who in turn let me in. A band of floor hockey brothers.
Now back to wait in line until sign-up starts at 8:00. I smell victory for Fili-BUST-YOU-UP this season.