The Cold Front

I am going to regret saying this, but it feels like time has slowed to a crawl, and Winter is never going to end. At this very moment the temperature outside my window is falling quickly from 56f to 35f. By the time I wake up tomorrow morning, there should be snow. They actually reported that we could expect snow falls until April. This is heartbreaking for me to hear, and the only thing that makes me not move to Madrid is the fact that these "weather reporters" don't know shit. Spring has until the 20th to show its ass, after that I am going to hunt that bitch down and drag it's warm weather and sunshine to Luzern. I did not buy a dress and party shoes for nothing.

I am set up for two more appointments with my chiropractor this week. I geniusly (that's not a real word) made the first appointment at the same time as P.E. tomorrow morning, so I plan on treating myself to Starbucks before school. I am going to miss my chiropractor when I am done, he has worn on me and I find myself oddly attracted to his grumpiness. For all I know the man hates me, but it some how makes him cuter, so I let him inflict pain on me.

Tonight's highlight:

"My life is like a momento mori painting from European art: there is always a grinning skull at my side to remind me of the folly of human ambition. I mock this skull. I look at it and I say, "You've got the wrong fellow. You may not believe in life, but I don't believe in death. Move on!" The skull snickers and moves even closer, but that doesn't surprise me. The reason death sticks so closely to life isn't biological necessity--it's envy. Life is so beautiful that death has fallen in love with it, a jealous, possessive love that grabs at what it can."

Life of Pi, Yann Martel
(highlight:yellow, thick and thin lines)