I have clocked over two miles on foot in the snow today and it's just 3:30

Near the subway at 96th Street, I saw a sign in a store window advertising berries at two boxes for $4.00, so I stepped inside and discovered that the place was a small but lovely produce shop, appetizingly-decorated and full of fruit, greenery, and dried fruits and nuts. And I, master of diction and style, said to myself quite distinctly: Dude, it's like a fuckin' farm in here!

Has the city really toughened me up that much?