It’s 7:30 am. The radiators in my apartment are hissing. The announcer on the radio says bundle up and the number under the weather icon on my computer sceen is 23.
If I am going to be reassigned (which I am) by the work-search program that I’m in back to my old work assignment (a UPMC hospital) for ten hours a week I should pick up a new second-hand suit this weekend; I’ve got two. At the hospital I was a “Greeter”, the first person a visitor saw (unless you came through emergency) and all us Greeters, the men, had to wear a suit.
I liked wearing a suit. It made me feel like a professional even if the suit only cost twenty bucks.