Here’s an exchange I had with my boyfriend, a little while ago:
Me: Michael! Is the house still standing? What’s it like out there?
Michael: Yes, Ann. It’s serenely blizzarding.
Soon after that, I checked things out for myself. As far as I can tell, Michael is right.
Now, what to do with all my serenely blizzarding thoughts, to create a post for me and you?
I know. I’ll share a blizzard of images and experiences, from yesterday and this morning.
Yesterday, a lot of people cancelled their therapy appointments at work. The first person who showed up in my office paused — in the midst of a blizzard of feelings and thoughts — and serenely said, “Look what your computer monitor is sitting on.”
Somehow, I’ve been blinded, for three years, from really seeing that ream of white paper.
Later in the day, somebody else worked on seeing through and reducing a blizzard of regrets from a change not chosen.
Most people in Boston left work early, in preparation for the coming storm. I heard a not-so-serene blizzard of concerns about traffic, so I waited until almost everybody else was gone. Here’s what I saw on my way to my car:
The ride home was serene, with no external blizzarding. Here’s what I found, once I reached home:
I’m interested in what you might see here, among all this serene blizzarding.
Here’s everything you need to know about some music that blizzarded serenely through my headphones yesterday:
I shall now deal with my serene blizzard of thoughts about the permanency/effects of (1) the blizzard outside and (2) YouTube videos in these posts, by showing you one more photo …
… and by including another serene-enough blizzard of a song.
It’s time, time, time for me to end this post.
What do you think about all this serene blizzarding? Feel free to leave a blizzard of comments; that would be serenely cool.
A serene blizzard of thanks to Michael, the people I saw yesterday, John Scofield, Pat Metheny, the Bangles, Simon & Garfunkel, and you for making my blizzard more serene, today.