Compare and contrast.
October 1991
Minneapolis got hit with the worst early winter snow in memory: Trick or Treaters were wearing parkas, I couldn't close the screen door to my crummy apartment, too much snow.
December 1992
I laid on my futon in my San Francisco apartment staring up at the ceiling, remembering that week's work at the art gallery/workshop shuttling framed artwork to Fisherman's Wharf, bright sunny day, nice weather, hearing he sea gulls and clang clang of the cable cars.
It all happened because I said a thing or two I couldn't back out of. I drove across country.
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