Chicago = Hellhole

When I said it was cold in Chicago, I wasn't kidding. It's gotten to the point where, even if I don't have food in my fridge, I rationalize my way out of going to the grocery store by telling myself things like "Missing two meals won't kill you, but this cold might". At least it's supposed to warm up tomorrow, with a high of -8 and a low of -17. I think that last sentence may well be the most depressing one I've ever written.

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