When the Universe is Trying to Tell You to Go Back to Bed

This morning, as I was stumbling around the apartment getting ready for work… I grabbed a pair of gloves. It’s been bitterly cold in Chicago this week, and holding my camera has gotten to be pretty painful without any sort of protection.

When I’m halfway down North Avenue, one glove on my left hand, I realize something has gone horribly, horribly wrong.