january 21. winter is here.

I'm supposed to be finishing a story now, a story I've started about a 12-year-old boy who lives in the fictional pre-planned mini-town of Cypress Park, within the city limits of Orlando, FL. But instead I'm mesmorized by the snow. My body has taken over, and I'm enveloped in a strange subset of the emotion of calm. A branch of calm, if you will, that can only be described as the feeling of watching snow fall. It's a separate emotion unto itself. It has something to do with the dryness and ariyness of the snow, with forgetting how the snow turns to water as soon as it hits your body. But in here, I have a gigantic picture window and I've taken a hot bath so my skin is all saturated and bloated. I'm wrapped in a fluffy white robe and propped up with a pillow, and I don't really care about much else right now. Is this comfort? Maybe. I know it's only momentary. I should pull my blinds so I can work with only the normal distractions of my apartment. But I don't want to miss this, what may be the only snow until next winter. It's going to be difficult keeping in the mindset of a Floridian with all this happening outside. I really do not like the snow when I'm outside. But I'm happy with this feeling, right now.