Walking to work, I noticed two chickadees bickering over their nest building. I kinda wondered if the Mrs. was directing the decorating procedures.
By the time I got to work, the gloves were off, the scarf sat neatly in my tote, and my jacket was unzipped. Oh, March, how I cursed you. Disrespect you neither ask for nor deserve - that is until the next spring snowstorm - let's just hope for your sake it's in April.
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