There�s something about sitting on the shower floor while the water beats on your face, the heat stinging a little each time it hits your sensitive skin. And then it switches from a slight sting to an annoyance and you realize that your foot was covering the drain and you�ve got quite the collection of water going. A squirt of some Bath and Body Works shower gel, brisk rubbing over the limbs, and you lift your head up to the water again.

At what point does the everyday activity become so much effort?

The weather here hasn�t let up yet -- Still wet, dreary, and cold. I went for a run as part of �Operation No More Fat Ass,� and I barely made it one mile. Granted, I was really trucking it. But with the winter wind biting at the inside of my lungs, the slight drizzle fogging up my glasses, and the waves snapping against the concrete every few seconds, I had to turn around shortly and head back home. It was a disappointing end to a disappointing workout.

I then got online to check some email with hopes that someone responded to a resume posting of mine and instead received offers to make my penis larger, give me an online degree, and pictures from a friend who stopped on the side of the Texas highway to take pictures of the bluebonnets for me.

Bluebonnets, like laurel, are all over Texas right now. They burst with no real signals. One day the highways are suddenly sprinkled with blue and there are two distinct changes at IBM: they stop mowing the fields between the parking garages to show off the natural Texas flair and men start wearing socks with sandals.

There are no men wearing socks and sandals right now in Chicago. We�re all still wearing our heavy Navy Pea coats, scarves, and ugly hats. The women look frumpy when dressed in layers, and the men look like bears.

Nothing is encouraging my cuteness, nor is it helping my mood. Give me summertime, or give me serotonin. �