Well, here we are, boys and girls. Survived another weekend, back for another week of fun and frolic. Went to the pub Friday night, played darts, listened to Irish music, got drunk - not necessarily in that order. Cleaned house on Saturday, then saw Van Helsing, which I liked, Saturday night(Go see White Chicks. It's the absolute best comedy of the summer - I could not stop laughing). Sunday I went to church and choir practice, then spent some time in front of the ol' DVD player catching up on movies I somehow missed, like Good Will Hunting, followed by Dungeons and Dragons to clear my brain. I'm behind on my pleasure reading and my studying, but maybe I can get back on track tonight. Oh well. Break's over....
On the ride into work this morning I let myself be lost in the foggy mist and enjoyed the last of the snow from this past weekend. It will no doubt be gone soon, soaked into the ground as if it never existed. Snow for me has always held a deeper meaning. I am happiest when it snows, yet I couldn't begin to explain why. So I looked out the window, imagining romantic characters striding across the pure white expanses, and just breathed in the beauty. Snow wraps around the seemingly dead landscape, and whispers promises of rebirth and renewal as it gently cradles the world in its soft, white blanket.
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