Well. I've been making my way home for over an hour it seems. I was being all hard and cool at work. I was the last person in my department to leave. Silly me. I just like the festive feeling of being there when no one else is and watching the fat snow fall down through the big library windows. I like to watch the students with not enough clothes on throw snow balls at each other and the boys putting snow down all the girls' shirts. And so I kept not leaving. I sat by the window with a book and reveled in the freedom to stay and the freedom of no class tonight and the freedom of my whole life full of lovely quiet and the longing for company.

I don't know how to drive in the snow. I'm a Florida girl, remember? So yeah. When I finally did leave, when the university was just closing up shop entirely, the truck refused to go up hills and it was slip sliding away from me so I parked and said fuck this. I said that out loud. I said it to the boys throwing snow at me on Springdale Ct. I said it laughing and full of joy. Fuck this, fuck me, fuck all the damned trucks that ever tried to get on to Walker Avenue in an unexpected snow storm. I dumped out my bag in the truck, walked over to the college mart place and bought some beer and put it in my bag and humped my way home and lord that was good work. I dreamed I was somebody else, someone with a someone at home and we would play with the dog and we would have a fire and we would take baths and we wouldn't turn any of the machines on at all. And then I dreamed I was somebody's momma and that we lived in the woods and that we walked out into the woods with the dog and we hollered at the quiet and made snow angels.

Home, though, is good all as it is. Bash and I have been running around outside. He's crying now to go back out there. I'm lonesome and safe and snug and feel all wild inside.