Looking at summer photos of sunshine clinging to flower petals that ooze warmth like melted butter on my fingertips, I glance at the two feet of snow outside. We're screwed, and will be screwed again with snow and icy rain by morning.

The bar owners took us out for margaritas tonight. I melted onto the stool after less than one taquilla-filled goblet. I told them, today is the day of the many layers of loser that keep me wrapped…but not warm. Lily could care less.