On the Road
I don’t have a giant roll of typing paper, and the only thing in my system is greasy Papa Johns and a bit of sugar from some mint ice cream. My last day at work was Friday, and boxes are stacked around me in an ever increasing height that threatens to smother the room’s atmosphere and lock me in some sort of chaotic cardboard prison. We’re moving. Church tomorrow and I 70 on Monday. No jobs, few belongings, and hoping and praying for a bright future. This is life; an endless vista, not broached (yet) by cubicle walls and rush hour traffic. What are you doing this weekend? Maybe you can pray for us.
Winter
It is winter here. Every morning I shuffle out to the car early and start it up before hurriedly dashing back inside for some coffee and the last bits of breakfast. Sometimes I have to spend extra time outside brushing snow off the windshield. I don’t really mind this at all. Sometimes I’ll actually drag the windshield-brushing time out as long as possible. The cold air makes my face tingle and I feel glad to be alive. The fact that I’m outside and perfectly fine in sub-freezing temperatures (when the cold kills so many other things) makes me feel clever. Usually winter in Ohio just means cold weather; we don’t really get much snow at all in Columbus. I think this is unfortunate. There is something to be said for the still...