it has not been the best of nights.

 

this whole thing should earn a far longer post, but quite frankly, i just can't even deal with the thought of that right now. suffice to say that i believe my car's gas gauge is broken. tonight's hero was beth, and for her multiple trips to the gas station, her witnessing of several streams of profanities, and a jeep that now reeks of gasoline, she earns a gazillion mini cheesecake thingies with blueberry topping. yeah, that's right. a gazillion.

 

finally made it home at 9pm, only to step out into snow deep enough to cover my ankles and did i mention i was still in my dress clothes? get inside, SLAM my keys down, THROW my bag across the apartment [all the way into the spare bedroom], and stand there being upset that i don't have ANYTHING ELSE TO THROW. i decide to put on my boots and shovel the front porch. controlled, useful throwing, i figure.

 

i sort of enjoy shoveling the front porch. a glorified term really. it's not even big. just slabs of concrete i share with the two neighbors in my triplex. they haven't been here long. i'm the only one with a shovel. i even have salt. i like shoveling the porch for all of us. if it was just for me i probably wouldn't even bother. i decide to shovel a little shovel-sized path from the porch to each of our cars. through the grass, mind you. it makes me smile.

 

my whopping seven minutes of shoveling is finished. it is cold out. it is clear. calm. i sit down on the freshly shoveled porch, dress clothes and wool coat and all, holding the shovel in front of me, leaning my head against it. i sit like this for awhile. quiet. i look up to the sky, and over the snow-covered... well, everything. the snow makes everything seem soft, gentle. i look back up at the sky. i realize that i am thankful. things could have been much, much worse. but they weren't. i am thankful. i sigh. i press my forehead against the shovel again and close my eyes. i'm suddenly on the verge of crying but basically just sort of decide not to. i sit for awhile longer. i contemplate making a snow angel. finally i get up. i throw some salt across the concrete and head inside.

 

i never did make a snow angel. but i'm okay with that. i'm okay.