For all the times I've badmouthed mother nature, especially what's in Indiana, here's something: It's timing is near perfect. After the Oregon-like October it rewarded us with a pleasant and even warm November, a swan song until spring, before turning frosty just as the calendar turned to December. Thank you for coinciding with my abitrary Julian method of dividing the year. Now may come the snow, and the Christmas music and temporary feelings of good will toward men.
Live seasonally, or not at all.
It's so cold the Electric Earth bay windows have fogged all the way up and I can't see West Wash. I just applied to UW grad school and I'm still stressed out because the details are not finished. I long for the new year when I'll have free time to spend on something other than worrying about grad school essays. But then I'll get bored, have more time to ponder the odd circumstances of my life and get sad again. I wish I could alter my consiousness as well as I've learned to predict it.