I am late. Always late. It's 8:52 when I leave the house and I start work at 9am. Running in the cold makes me salivate, frozen air stinging as I try not to drool on my parka. Why do I live somewhere where it hurts my face to be outside? I lingered in bed too long, paralyzed by comfort, dreading this hunched run-shuffle to be at the store by 9am. I
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