Location: Orono, en route to Pembroke, Mark's Car
When: January 21, 2005, 5:45 am
Coffee: Maine Roasters Coffee, French Roast
I imagine this is what it feels like to get your face ripped off. Right after it happens, before the screaming starts, before the pain starts registering. That split second before you realize exactly what has happened and you know something has gone horribly, horribly wrong, and the extent of this is starting to sink it. That is how cold it is out. Forget that "nipping at your nose" stuff. Jack Frost is biting off your face!
Mark's puzzlement is audible as I pause in this cold to take a picture of my coffee on top of his car. It is dark. It is cold. But I've got my coffee. Everything is going to be okay. Or is it?