Yesterday afternoon it started snowing. Part of me started to wither and die on the inside again. I am just beyond tired of the snow and the cold and the fact that it will not go away. When I woke up this morning Jetta had an inch of snow on her, it was 18 degrees outside, and I could practically skate my way across the parking lot to the fitness center.
But then the sun came out.
The snow melted off of Jetta like it was butter on a hot griddle. The parking lot cleared, and by now you can’t even tell it snowed last night. And now I’ve got lots of bright warm sunshine coming into the apartment, and it reminds me of how things were a year ago when I was painting my place and it was finally starting to feel like it was going to warm up soon.
I’m excited for it to warm up so that I can get out on the sidewalks and start running. Next weekend I’m getting my shoes at Gazelle and I’d love to be able to break them in on pavement instead of a treadmill.
It’s going to get warm again. Twelve weeks from now I’ll probably be bitching about how my office at the bachelor pad is borderline uninhabitable in the afternoons from the direct sunlight, but for now, I cling tightly to the dream of eating breakfast on the porch in the morning and having a beer at night. It’ll happen.
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