Thus I was at the station by 7:15, or rather in Tim Horton's with a double-double and a red velvet cupcake. Tim's at that hour is very nearly empty: when the street belongs to the cop (ha!) and the janitor with his mop, and the grocery clerks are in fact already setting out produce in the supermarkets up the street. But by then I was tired again and the 70 kmh wind gusts were beginning. So I believe I took a cab, though I have no memory of doing so, and wound up at work before the centre was open. And left it at 5:45 pm, which made for a remarkably long day. And alas, I get to do it again twice next week, once after a predicted snowfall of 4" or possibly freezing rain, and once during it. I am so done with this winter, I cannot tell you.
But tromping about on snow grippers does make for a completely different emotional world from tooling about on the bike. Some of the Canadian ganbaru spirit seeps back when there are no other options. This will vanish with the next thaw, but meanwhile I am walking again- the ache and stab just an accepted part of things- and shovelling snow and chopping ice, as I did at work yesterday on my putative day off. Because, of course, otherwise I'd have had to negotiate an ice field today, and chopping myself into exhaustion was better than that.