You Know What They Say About Mean People

Mildly apoplectic with a large dose of being disheartened would be the words of the day for me.

I had a job interview the other day and the interviewer was rude and condescending and I didn't speak up for myself so I've been stewing in that for the past couple of days.

Ever have something like that happen?  How did you handle it?

I used to interview people in a previous position and I was really good at it.
Thankfully, it would never occur to me (then or now) to to be rude and condescending to anyone generally speaking, but especially in an interview setting when you know the person is already nervous.

I'm frustrated at myself for not speaking up but more than anything I'm sad that there are people who treat other people with such disregard.

Seems like a good day to get outside and spread some extra kindness.

Finally, March (aka Fake Spring)

It never fails.

Despite knowing better, as soon as the calendar turns to March, I'm like hooray, winter's over!

Case in point:  I was an avid Rollerblade skater back in the day. I was pretty much addicted to it and used to skate between 3-5 miles every day, always in the same place.

There is a road in Bay Head, NJ, that runs right up alongside the ocean and the oceanfront mansions of the Excessors (people who buy more and spend more than they actually have to). It's not heavily trafficked so you'll mostly find people riding their bikes, walking themselves and/or their dogs, skating, etc. You'd find me there every day from springtime to late fall, showing up immediately after work on the weekdays and sometimes several times a day on the weekends. Regular exercise - which I will not go on about because there's not much else that's more boring than people talking about exercising - will do that to you...make you addicted thanks to glorious endorphins...the exact ones that have been eluding me of late.

Back then I had to skate, just like I had to eat and sleep.

But skating outdoors in a place like New Jersey is a seasonal activity and I would freak out hard when the seasons changed and it got too cold to skate anymore - especially along the oceanfront where it's much colder and windier than it is inland.  

Winters were long for me as I counted the days until I could skate again.

When the calendar turned to March it was on.  In my head March meant springtime no matter what the thermometer said and so I'd head out to finally skate again. Drive to the beach, park, put my skates and wrist guards on, and off I went.

To hypothermia.

20 or so yards into my skate and my eyes were tearing, nose was running, and I would start to not be able to feel my extremities and it would dawn on me that it wasn't time to start skating yet.
Skating the 20 yards back to my car felt like this:

 

I did this every March for at least a few years.

In my defense, no one ever said I was the sharpest tool in the shed.

My only excuse?  I guess it's only that hope always springs eternal + those eager little endorphins.

19 days until technical Spring.
Actual Spring is anyone's guess.

A few minutes ago it was flurrying outside.  Not a good skating day.