On having *too* much fun. . . .

This morning, after several hours of smoking old butts, I knew I was due to try for the store. Car on idle with heaters on for a couple of hours, and windshields magically became ice-free. A couple of very sincere prayers for good luck, and. . . .

I made it out of the driveway with no trubble, a miracle in an of itself. Then made cocky, perhaps, by the blue, and sunshine, and warmth (nearly up to freezing), the fun. . . .

Words needed for this section: black ice, blind curves, luck.

Luck, perhaps another name for an angel?

I'm home now. Suffice it to say, won't be doing it again for a while. . . .



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