Cabin Fever

Trapped yet once again due to the ice on the driveway and serious cabin fever has set in. 

Oh, how I long to sit outside, to set foot outside, to see something besides my four walls and the fireplace.

 I love my husband and daughter, but I'd like to see other people.
Any other people.
Even obnoxious people.

 I've talked on the phone.

Blogged.

Checked on building websites.

Played cards with mini-me and the Mid-Western Yankee (I won last night in two out of three games).

Ate pork and carbs and a whole long list of food that I rarely allow in the house. Who cares if I get fat?  At this rate, I won't actually see anyone until sometime in May.

Shopped on-line for a condo in south Florida to rent for at least three months next year. That cheered me up. Briefly.

Cooked. And photographed the food out of boredom.

Cleaned the laundry room floor.

Drank Maker's Mark, wine and margaritas, although, not on the same night. If I can't leave the house soon, I might try that.

 And even attempted a Google calendar for 2010. 

Whined incessently to my MWY husband about the fact that the outside temperatures haven't reached above freezing in over a week.

MWY has built a fire every day.  Obviously, trying to ease his conscience about not sending me to Mexico before this latest cold front desended on Atlanta. And yesterday he ventured out for shopping, but I don't dare. A friend's car was hit on Friday night by another driver, not that unusual except that his Mercedes was parked in his driveway at the time.

I know I can't drive with ice on the roads; I don't even have the skills to walk in snow without getting injured. One ski trip in Vermont at age twenty taught me that sad fact. 

If God intended for me to walk outside in this weather, I would have been born wearing a mink coat and snow shoes.

Checked the weather forecast.

I'm starting to depress my usually happy self.

Contemplating ways to pass another day indoors.  And spending next winter in Miami.