Last night I ran home from work like a little kid. It was super fun. I felt all charged and bionic. As I ran, I remembered why I loved Spiderman so much. That feeling of just suddenly being able to lift up and swing from lamp post to roof top and take off. I felt, last night, I might just be able to do that...
As I past the huddled masses crushed in the bus shelters I felt even more powerful. What's a little cold wind and snow? Make the best of it and run home instead of waiting and waiting for broken down old streetcars that never come. As I ran, I warmed up, and didn't feel the cold at all. My iPod blasted Missy Eliot which helped pump my energy level up, as well.
Sometimes life is so wonderful and simply beautiful. Snow covers everything lightly, delicately, like a touch. It collects on the sides of buildings, in their crooks and moldings, as if to protect them. as if to highlight their details.
When I got home I got all warm wrapped up in my blue wool blanket and watched the "L Word" with the blinds drawn open so I could watch the snow blizzard outside. I love that feeling, all cozy and snug inside, watching the tumult and cold of outside.
The change of seasons is starting to become okay by me.
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