I slipped on our front steps this morning. Our front steps are already slick with a glossy paint job. Add some invisible, frozen moisture and... yes. I'm generally a nimble fellow, and I've slipped before. When I hit the first step, I grabbed the red railing, hoping to save face. I put my foot down on the next step, which was just as bad, and knew I had no choice but to give in to falling. I suppose there's a psychotheraputic axiom in there somewhere, but it didn't help much as I tilted backward and smacked the left side of my body on the hard, wooden steps. It sounds bad, but only a small bruise on my forearm remains. Live and learn. Winter 2006.
The snow hype has Chicago bracing for the worst. It's set to begin in a few hours. At least I won't have to walk home from the Loop again. A little red wine, a little goat cheese and good ol' Jim Rome on the other end should melt away any late-night commuting accumulation.