Snow

I have a daily ritual where after waking and rousing my brain enough to dial a phone number, I call Time & Temp for the daily forecast and then decide what to dress my body in that day. Dressing for the weather is probably something I got from my mom who watches the evening weather report while rummaging through her closet of clothes and mixing and matching until finally assembling the perfect outfit.

Today's report startled me. "Chances of precipitation accumulating up to 2 inches in the benches." I didn't want to bust out my Wellies just yet, so I settled on black flats and went out the door. It wasn't exactly a clear morning. On my walk to class I saw a gloomy, foreboding, black cloud waiting to eat me and spit me out all wet and mucky. By the time I got in the door of the HFAC it was just starting to sprinkle. It is spring after all.

Well someone forgot to tell April that it's the third week of spring and halfway through a 20 minute study I glanced up and was horrified by the silver-dollar sized snow monsters falling gracefully from some unknown, unkind source of weather mayhem. I wanted to thrust an icepick in my temple and sacrifice myself to the Winter Gods as an offering for warm weather. By the time I emerged from nearly 3 hours in the library the snow had stopped and nearly all melted and I smiled, thanking the clouds for saving myself from death by icepick.