February 27, 2002
11:24am

It has not stopped snowing since yesterday. At first it was a mere flurry; a few fat white flakes that drifted down from the sky and melted on my glasses. Then it began to coat the ground with fluffy mounds that caked my shoes. By the time I left the computer lab last night it looked like a scene from a snow globe.

The campus was oddly silent as I walked outside. The sky was a dark red color I've never seen before and the cold wind shifted rivulets of snow beneath my plodding feet. The buildings' bright fog lights were reduced to fuzzy halos in the soft, moonless night. Strains of an old man's voice singing O Death came through my headphones. The lonely walk to my car had become otherworldly. I wish I could have captured those moments somehow. Sometimes neither words nor images can truly describe the unexpected scenes life puts before you.

As I waited for the car to warm up I watched a truck from parking services pull into the lot and slide on the icy asphalt. The truck spun completely around twice as the driver helplessly hunched over the steering wheel. I felt oddly calm as it spun dangerously close to my car. I remember thinking it looked like it was performing a silent ballet.

That's how I felt early this morning as I once again battled time and snow to get to work. A combination of sleep deprivation and low blood sugar made me apathetic and disconnected. It was if I weren't participating in the world, but watching it chaotically spin out of control. Even now, hours later, I feel somewhat detached from my surroundings. I can't wait to go home and surrender to the gravity of my eyelids, heavy with sleep. What a sweet slumber that will be.