i'm still a foghead

I have to sympathize with Chicken Little... on days like today I really do feel like the sky is falling, that the steam rising from the heat of millions of people running around like crazy on the ground rises, only to fall back down to earth...

As I rub my feet together in their disheveled and decrepid slippers to generate some heat, the familiar ol' cheetah print fuzzy footseys that I've worn for years and hold in most high esteem, I yearn for thick curtains to block out the impending doom of winter. For some reason I've been transported back in my imagination to a dry and barren land, of high altitude and heavy clouds full of snow. White, gorgeous, fluffy and cool snow, the smart stuff, the stuff that comes down, floating through the polluted air to land and stick and smoke till it dies...

I miss snow... I feel betrayed by my own choice to live here, in this tricky environment, where wheather makes no sense and is so foreign to me- like I'm permanently on leave from reality in a wet world where the sky choses to fool me by looking like winter, when really I know it won't ever be a true winter...

I woke up this morning to look out the window and be fooled again by my curtains and the trees outside, at first I was excited that I actually saw some blue peeking through, then as time continued to move forward as it always does, I realized that I was not in such luck... I feel like I've holed myself up inside where it's half-warm and half-cold for too long, days on end... where one day melts into the next with no variety... Yet it's rediculously tough to tap into that hidden motivation to put gas in my busted up trusty Edgar Elephante and buzz around this foggy city. The city that will eventually fall into the ocean...

I want to take my "euphemism" as Uncle Greaseball dubbed the love of my life, hide in a room full of hot steam and hold him so tight that we become the moon... Up in interstellar galactica where nothing like the stoopid weather can make us feel like we're ever miles apart. Sometimes one or two days feels like eternity, and I can't see the moon through the clouds no matter how hard I squint my squeaky eyes... but everything I know and trust in tells me it's still there.

It's pretty intense how the influence of temperature and breeze outside my window makes me mood crazy. Slightly productive, I've written my extra credit assignment up for Astronomy and done some minor changes with the website, and I've got a list of things to do a mile long as ususal... Still - all I feel like doing is soaking in a hot hot hot tub of precious water, but I know that my water heater can't heat up the water hot enough to satisfy... I want it so hot it'll scald all the bruises off my body, dissolve all the dead skin into smithereens, soak through my chest and infiltrate me with energy and cleanse me so thoroughly it'll be like I've got to start from scratch. I want to take a breath of air and feel what it's like for the very first time, fresh with none of this crap that contaminates my lungs... and mind... and soul...

I feel.... strange... to say the least.