Making It Up As I Go Along #307

MONDAY...
— Up and to work alright. I’m surprised cause I didn’t get a load of sleep last night.
— The drive to work starts slow. The inside of my windshield is frosted and I have to wait for the defrost to kick in... the one downside with my Mazda, the Toyota rarely did this.
— Nap in the evening and some TV and e-mails.

TUESDAY...
— Another not great night of sleep last night... and work pays for it a bit today. I’m struggling for a while.
— Some e-mails and a call home to the folks round out my day... oh yeah, I do get a nice valentine’s card from mom and dad... that give reason for that phone call. Weird to get mail that isn’t a bill.

WEDNESDAY...
— Not super sleep again. It was better but not perfect. My back is still kind of knotted up.
— Lunch at HQ with Kiyomi, Shannon and Tina. Tina buys me my lunch too... as payment for me switching shifts with her over the last while. Nice girl that Tina.
— Playing with a theory on why my back hasn’t been great... falling asleep on the sofa in awkward positions... I decide to flip around the living room. Sofa now to the side of the TV rather than in front of it. The big chair takes the front spot. We’ll see how it goes... but laying out on the sofa should be more comfortable that way... and using the chair should go up with it’s current location.

THURSDAY...
— “Coast to coast like buttered toast.” That phrase is said by one of the Ottawa Senator commentators. Nobody who’d say such a thing should be paid to call a sports event.
— CNI to remember the supervisor role in the morning. Back to AFIS in the afternoon. I go to CNI to take over again next week... for just one week.

FRIDAY...
— Not a bad night’s sleep so work is a bit easier to do.
— E-mails, some TV, and a pizza for supper in the evening.

SATURDAY...
— Some e-mails, games on the computer, movies on TV, cleaning up in the bedroom, and hockey in the evening.

Snow
Upon a mountain it’s magical, glorious, majestic, inspiring, deadly, and beautiful.

Across the prairies it’s blinding, dizzying, blanketing, concealing, and crisp.

Along the sea it’s swirling, hissing, dripping, crusty, and powerful.

In small towns it’s peaceful, lovely, picturesque, fluffy, singing, and outlining angels.

In cities it’s encroaching, meddling, inconvenient, and traffic snarling.


I’d love to be at the mountains to see the skiers fly freely, the tracks left by wildlife, and to pause with every glance... unable to look away quickly... needing to stare to comprehend the place.

I’d like to be in the prairies to feel upside down, to stand in a spot and not know which way goes where... making my way across subtle land made even more subtle by the blanket of white.

I long to be at the sea, to smell the freshness of sea snow, to hear it blown against my coat, and to stomp a foot through that upper crust... leaving a frozen footprint.

A small town would be sweet, a place where smiles and community events warm the season with Styrofoam cups of hot chocolate, toboggans, playing dogs... snowball fights and forts bring childhood memories back.

But I’m in the city. Where morning commutes begin early with a brush and shovel, just to join the snarl. Salt tracks in on pants, melted dirt puddles form around feet under desks... and a longing for summer smog rings out.