Baby, it's cold outside.

It really is. According to weather.com, the temperature outside my window right now is 30 degrees, and it supposedly feels like 20. I walked into my place of accommodations this evening and cranked the thermostat up to 75. My mom made me turn it down about 15 minutes later, saying it felt like a sauna. I don't understand what's bad about that. When it feels like 20 degrees outside, I don't mind it feeling like a sauna inside. Saunas are quite comfortable on a chilly winter night. I mean, people voluntarily enter saunas every day - even when it's hot outside. Given the choice between sleeping in a sauna and sleeping under conditions conducive to frostbite development, I'll likely choose the sauna, and I certainly will tonight.

Ok, enough about the weather.

Today I realized babies are really smart. Well, at least as smart as those dogs Pavlov kept. I was standing outside an adorable baby girl's hospital room when I came to this realization. (Don't worry, I am not a creepy baby-in-the-hospital stalker. I was actually visiting someone whose room was right next door, and I was told to wait in the hallway while the doctor was in the room.) Anyhoo, the baby's room was right across from the nurses' station, and as soon as she started crying, the nurse would walk over to the open door, throw on a mask, gloves, and one of those smock things, and enter the baby's room, talking in a soothing high-pitched voice. The baby would stop crying and start smiling as soon as the nurse entered the room. The nurse would stay in there for a few minutes, telling Baby Girl she should go back to sleep, and then leave the room. Upon leaving the room, she would remove the smock, gloves, and mask, and toss them into the "soiled linens" basket. As soon as the nurse made her way back to the station, Baby Girl would begin to cry again. The nurse repeated the same routine four times during the 20 minutes I was in the hallway, taking a new smock, new gloves, and a new mask each time Baby Girl started to cry. Baby Girl had the nurse wrapped around her chubby little baby finger. All she wanted was some attention. And boy, did she get it. What a smart kid.

In other news, I was told today that I don't look a day over 18. I am 24 and three-quarters. (And no, I do not think it's juvenile to tack on "and three-quarters." It's just more precise. I enjoy precision.) I suppose this is supposed to be a compliment, but do I really want to look like a high school senior when I start life as a lawyer? I guess, if nothing else, it will psyche out opposing counsel. They'll think it's Bring Your Daughter to Work Day, and then I will knock their socks off with my vast knowledge of the Commerce Clause and the elements of a negligence cause of action. They'll never see it coming. I'll be my firm's secret weapon. Sneak attack. Boo-yah.