Turns out, this weather in this town at this point in time is exactly perfect for my disposition. There is a crust of ice over the snow that makes the most satisfying noise in the history of noises crunching through it, and today I walked and walked in the snow to have brunch with my funny and attractive friends and later explore a new bar. And then eventually I crunched back home, alone on the streets and running through empty lawns shin deep in uncrunched snow, watching the gloaming settle over everything, listening to Billie Holiday sing "Stormy Blues" over and over and feeling exactly the right amount of melancholy.
I'm back to this tight feeling in my chest like something is about to happen, and though this feeling so often proves false I am still excited for the possibility of the next big thing. Maybe this is the next big thing, the crunching and the lightly blue and the sledding with strangers. Maybe it will finally bring entirely good things instead of bad things I have to remodel into good things. Maybe the snow is just going to my head. The anticipation makes me giddy, and the weather appears to be in full support of that.
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