Okay, it's 0°F, -18°C outside, and this guy is not only wearing shorts, he's wearing flipflops.

In the middle of winter.

In the middle of Canada.

Wait, did I say Canadians are weird?

I meant insane.

I finally figured out how to get warm in this area.

The trick is layers.

As in: underwear, long underwear, long pants, t-shirt, long-sleeved shirt, hoodie, full-length jacket and ANOTHER jacket on top of that.

Then, go indoors.

Finally, finally, FINALLY warm.

Until we go to the car.

Sigh.

Directors meeting set up for next Tuesday has the following schedule:

Rough schedule:

7:00PM - Cocktails & guests arrival
7:30PM - Dinner
8:00PM - Main Act
8:30PM - David dances around naked
9:00PM - Cult suicide whilst waiting for a comet

Cracked me up.

I'm reminded today of Kris years ago telling me about an on-field confrontation between two top women ultimate players. The two women played on rival teams; the game they were playing in was being played intensely, each point fought tooth and nail.

The one woman was putting on a particularly hard mark, and the other one as thrower called foul when the marker fouled her. The marker said, "No contest," and play restarted.

After a few pivots, the thrower called foul again, and play stopped. No contest, play restarted.

This continued for a few more foul calls, until the marker cried out in exasperation, "Stop making foul calls!"

To which the thrower calmly responded, "Stop fouling me."

I remembered this story today, when I overheard a conversation where one person said, "Yeah, stop talking shit about me." I could help but think, "Well, stop being a shit, and people will stop talking shit about you." Same thing with crazy: stop acting crazy, and people will stop calling you crazy.

Seemed simple enough to me.

If only it were so obvious to some other people.

Despite my best intentions, I woke up, once again, at 9:30 this morning, an hour and a half late for the second car appointment this week. I have no idea why I'm unable to rise from bed before 9:30, but the timing is consistent around 9:30 plus or minus five minutes. By the time I was ready to head to the dealership, I wasn't sure they would be willing to take the car, so I called.

Funny thing happened when I called.

The guy at the service counter said, no, no they couldn't fit my car into the schedule today, would I like to make an appointment for next week? When I responded, "No, thank you," the service guy was genuinely confused.

"You don't want to reschedule?"

"No, I don't."

"But you need to reschedule your appointment." My brake pads were worn and, despite the warning light not having gone off, I needed them replaced.

"That's okay. Thanks."

"Why not?"

"I can take it another place on Monday."

"Please hold, we'll see if we can fit you in."

Fewer than five minutes later, I was heading into the dealership with an appointment set up, surprised that, well, sometimes, rejection therapy with non-attachment works just fine.