. . . at the new job. I showed up at 7:40, ended up sitting in my car and watching the rain quickly cascade down on my windshield. About 10 minutes into that my car was so fogged up that I took it as a sign to get out and check the office door. Still locked. I suppose it could be considered strange to be asked to show up at 8:00, but there be no one around to let you in. I guess I didn’t mind too much though . . . it’s either sit in my car and twiddle my thumbs or sit inside and use them as ’space bar’ clickers. (Which is clearly what they’ve now become, but it keeps the fingers limber in this cold weather and even colder office. I swear it’s colder inside then out).

Fourty minutes of sitting in a fogged up car can be dangerous. Suppose you found a fogged up car sitting in an abanded parking lot . . . I sense Richie Cunningham of Happy Days singing, ‘I found my trill on Blueberry Hill’. No one would guess that a foggy car is cause of a woman who is anxiously waiting to begin work on a perfectly good Thursday morning. I could have gone to Starbucks, but desire to start work kept me in that foggy car . . . now that IS desperation. If someone had come across the, oh so foggy car (mind you they probably wouldn’t have found me hidden behind the 12 foot refrigeration truck) they would have been disgusted to imagine teenagers taking refuge in their parking lot for necking purposes.

Speaking of Happy Days, did you know that Richie was in the Army? He married his high school sweetie, Lori Beth and she got pregnant? Well, it’s all true.