The fridge's gurgling in the corner, long shadows of sun light the kitchen floor.
I'm siting at my little green table with the orange budvase holding a beaded butterfly that's supposed to be in a plant, but I have a black thumb so the vase is safer. I'm not sure how difficult it is to kill a piece of metal, but I might be able to do it.
I woke up this morning wondering, "What is that strange noise?" A scraping sound. Outside my window. Over and over.
My marshmallow white bed cozied me in. I was still in my bathrobe. (Yes, I slept in it.)
Finally I remembered we have snow here. Maybe more! My landlord, Ernst, was out cleaning things up.
Hours later, it's still flurrying. I can't seem to leave the house, though I have my gym clothes on.
It's one of those days where I just want to stay home under my fuzzy John Deere blanket and let life pass by.
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