I’m feeling unsafely optimistic. If I were bi-polar I would guess I was entering a manic phase. Instead I’ll attribute the mood to currently listening to Ash’s Meltdown, which surely deserves the credit.
There’s also the circumstance that last week we had our triennial snowstorm. Several inches fell, the city endured (though with the normal embarassing panic and post-mortem cringing at our lameness when it snows). The dogs frolicked, I trudged to the busstop and didn’t particularly mind that the normal half-hour bus ride took almost two hours (and was particularly happy that walking on the sidewalk did not see my once slip and plant my face), our neighbor serendipitously shoveled our sidewalk (thanks Keith!) though it was our snow shovel he borrowed so he could shovel his own walk anyway (thanks Dempseys!) and the walk with the dogs that evening was particularly and eerily beautiful with the fog-shrouded streetlights reflecting off the snow so that everything seemed to glow and it was so quiet. And now it’s all melted and the freezing weather has turned into something almost balmy. So perhaps a false spring has me fooled.
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