280 Pounds of Sand

That's the equivalent of 4 tubes of sand, you know.

There were flurries today, a lot of them. I long for the accumulation of snow. I also long to see sunlight.

"I've not seen the sun shine since...I don't know when. I'm stuck in Folsom Prison..."
I chant this as I walk into work, pre-dawn. I chant this as I walk to my car, post-dusk.

I rediscovered another person who does something similar and I fell in love all over again. And with all this similarity, I still stay rational and not that giddy. Clarity. Go figure.

I got to yell at people today, but that doesn't necessarily mean that I did. Well, I couldn't actually. I've discovered that there's something going on with me that keeps me from yelling. When forcing as much air through the lungs as possible, very little sound comes out. I've lost my outdoor voice. I do, however, now have a whistle. So what if I can't yell at people? I'll just blow at them very loudly!

...that didn't sound right, did it?