I'm not going to pretend that I was in a good mood today. After cramming two hard-boiled eggs down my gullet, and screaming at least 15 eff-words in regards to the second winter storm warning this week, I plunged out into the world in full hatred of Duluth, the people of Duluth, and the entire season of winter, not to mention you, your mother, your sister, and your filthy, dirty genitals.

After driving 15-20mph on the freeway among people who find it prudent to keep their headlights off and to constantly ride the brake while driving in zero visibility on a slippery surface, I arrived at work for the second day of what I like to call NaMaProMo, or National Mail Processing Month. It's a month that I'm participating in! There are a few simple rules to NaMaProMo, which are kind of like the rules of chess: easy to learn but hard to master.

» I will process -- by hand -- every single oversized Priority Mail™ parcel in northern Minnesota and Wisconsin during this Christmas season.

» Every day, I will work as long as it takes to do my job. I will not leave until it is finished.

» From now until Christmas, I will have only two days off. They will not adjoin.

» Nearly every clause in the contract my union negotiated for me will be suspended during this month. I will have veritably no rights.

FUN! Anyway, I made it to work unscathed (for the first time this week) where I proceeded to work my ass off and consume not only lunch, but also dinner, out of the vending machine, all the while I had no idea whether or not I was going to be able to make it home after work, because of the second raging snowstorm within three days. After weighing all of my options (one of which included walking the 4.5 miles home in the middle of the street in dark clothing), I actually started to think about the inevitable, which was renting a room at the Motel 6 across the street from the sewer plant so that I could easily get right back to work the next day.

Luckily, the storm let up and after shoveling out my Ford Escort, which was completey buried except for a small swath of fluorescent green, I was able to drive to my favorite free parking ramp, located only a mile from my home. And even luckier than that, the ramp is attached to one of my favorite bars. My old lady, who had the relative luxury of walking 2-1/2 miles to work, met me there.

I like bars pretty much on any given day of the year, but there is something about a snow day that makes a bar spectacular. It's the precise opposite of the cold and hateful world outside. Here, it's warm, friendly, and relatively safe. It reminds you that life is, for the most part, fun. Here you steel yourself for the mile-long walk home through the wind and snow. Here, no one makes you behave in any way you don't want to.

Tomorrow I'll walk back to my car, which will be safe and snowless under the ground, and it will actually be kind of fun -- way more fun than digging it out of a concrete-like snowbank. Tonight I've discovered that the secret to NaMaProMo -- one of them anyway -- is to find the positive.

Just like the rest of life.