A wonderfully perfect walk home

This is all so cheesy, but this is how the night just kind of felt and worked itself out.

When I got out of work, there was this really thick, strange fog just covering everything. I'd been in the office since 6pm, and the skies were clear when I arrived. I wasn't expecting the change in weather at all.

There was rain, but was more of a drizzle and it was mixed with snowflakes.

For all the complaining I've been doing about the cold and the winter (I think maybe all the complaining everyone on the east coast has been doing about the cold and the winter), it was beautiful outside. The fog diffused the glow of the street lights and public safety call boxes, making the snow shine with a blue and gold haze. All the cars and signs were cast in a dark shadow, but the buildings themselves seemed to be glowing from the inside out.

I put my ipod on shuffle as I was leaving the office, and "Drops of Jupiter" by Train came on. The fog was so thick, and there really weren't very many people out. I was able to indulge in some middle school nostalgia and sing off-key about traveling through the galaxies and sharing soy lattes without anyone on campus recognizing me (I hope). I was able to throw in a few dance moves in an empty parking lot as well. It was really tempting to swing around a lamp post (actually meandered towards a few), but didn't give in that far. This isn't "Singing in the Rain."

Today wasn't particularly special. In fact, it had some downright shitty moments. Bad memories from recent events kept popping up in my head, and I ended up just keeping myself as busy as possible to keep from having a total, cry-in-the-corner meltdown.

But for a few minutes, on this walk home, my life was a music video. And everything was okay.