I’m sitting here with my hair standing out perpendicular to the floor from static electricity, staring at a blank page. The fact that it is only doing it on one side of my head is distracting in a Marvel comic strip kind of way. If I were a superhero, what would I be?

After watching the series premiere of Agent Carter last night, I’m thinking not her. Peggy Carter’s hair would never succumb to static cling. Never ever.

I’m already sucked-in based on the music, sets and costumes alone. You? Did you watch it? Huh? Huh?

It could be the — cough-cough — absence of writing during the month of December — cough-cough.

Writers know writing begets writing. It’s practically biblical.

It could be brain freeze. They don’t call it arctic air deep freeze in the Great White North for nothing.

Then again, it could be the static-electricity-hair-perpendicular-to-the-floor thing.

It’s a tough call.

Okay. Okay.

It’s the absence of begetting.

Moving right along.

It’s the first Hump Day of the new year, and I’m soup-loading against the cold. A glass of coconut water and kale put through an immersion blender is not going to cut it in the frozen suburban tundra without a side of thick, steamy soup. The thicker and steamier the better. If I were in Belize, I might think differently.

I just chop that kale right into my soup.

This seemed like the appropriate image for the first Hump Day of 2015.

And I did promise it to you here.

Hump Day.

Let’s just drive right over it.

Elen