The Code
I am a person of few rules. I think folks ought to treat each other kindly. And I believe in most of the amendments. But other than those two guiding principles I think the less rules the better. Yet, there is one code I cannot compromise. The Code of 703.Drafted by several humanities majors and a lone biology student, The Code of 703 outlines conduct conducive to best living. The trio of lifestyle guidelines are painted in the bottom drawer of a yet another dumpster dresser. And are as follows:
The Code of 703
1. We have messy hair, we do what we want.
2. Nothing Colorado. Ever.
3. Never have a defeatist attitude.*
(Later Amendment)
*One is allowed to have a defeatist attitude if she has been vortexed.
CRY, CRY, CRY FACE
This is my code. These are my values. And yet, this is my reality.
Today I wondered how long I would have to blubber, sob and cry until Preston suggested that we head home to California. Immediately.
Today I deeply questioned my sanity for choosing to live in the grand and grim Great Plains.
Today I stepped outside in -24 degrees, -60 when accounting for wind chill.
Today I threw hot coffee into the air and watched it billow into an arch of dragon breath.
Today my bare fingers stuck and froze to the metal door handle.
Today I witnessed my poor truck recede into an icy slumber that no jumper cables could rouse.
Today I wore two layers of...HATS.
Today I was a defeatist.
Midwest Points
Contemplating Crying My Way Back to California= -24 MIDWEST POINTS
Still Being Alive= 24 MIDWEST POINTS
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