Day 69: Not an Eggzit

It was frozen-snot cold today. Burnt face cold.
So as I trudged home, through un-shoveled sidewalks (lazy college jerks); oversized 'purse' slung over one shoulder; laptop in one hand; carton of farm fresh eggs in another; I was momentarily distracted from the deadly temperatures--I had to protect my eggs.

I would not slip; they would not drop.  I chanted.

As I neared the front door of my apartment complex, I thought my heavy burden was lifted.  I was home.  But before you could say, "don't count your chickens before they hatch", the [unusually heavy] door slammed upon my arm & my precious eggs.

I scrambled up the stairs to deliver the hopefuls to safety, then returned to the scene to properly dispose of the remains. Which was tougher than eggspected, because our sub zero temperatures had already begun freezing tiny splashes of egg--on the door; on the floor; on my coat; & and on my hands.

I returned to the lucky ones & counted my losses. Two fatalities and 10 suffering eggstreme shock.