At a training class in Atlanta today: the facility that was rented did not have heat. I know what 62 degrees feels like in my house because that is where my thermostat rests when I get home from work. And this room was not anywhere near 62 degrees. Even the men were complaining.

So, for eight hours I lost the sensation in my hands, feet and nose. At lunch I headed back to my car and tried to warm up with the engine running, but by that point I had gone past the point of no return.

All fall and winter long I have been riding my bike outside in all sorts of weather conditions down to about 35 degrees and the sensation is compounded by the wind chill. But today is the coldest I have been in recent memory. The last time I recall being this cold is when I was caught in a spring rainstorm at JazzFest in New Orleans, and was waiting for a ride while soaking wet. The worst situations end up being the ones you aren't prepared for (and today I was wearing my thickest winter coat during the class). But how in all holy f'ing hell was I supposed to know that I should have brought a ski suit and worn seven layers of long underwear underneath it, for a corporate training class?

4:00 pm EST: Class is over. AT THAT VERY SECOND, I dashed back to my car and started it. The heat comes on faster when you give the car some gas, so at 4:01 I am headed towards I-285 already. BUT... lest we forget, this is Atlanta, land of the 20 minute long traffic lights and 200 car lines waiting to get on the interstate and then when you finally get on the on-ramp there is a freaking problem and you still can't give your car any gas because you can't go over 10 mph. At this point I thought I might commit suicide in a kamikaze manner, going down in a ball of flames BUT YET I would have DIED WARM!!

After FORTY FIVE MINUTES of maximum heat at maximum speed and my feet were finally, completely warm through and through.

I wouldn't accept pay of a billion dollars for another shitty day like this one.