if you lived on the bus you'd be home by now.

My room is cold, and I am in my room, therefore I am cold. My fingers, the only part of me not under my sleeping bag, are rather disappointed by the turn of events that have lead me here, to this exact spot with these exact feelings, in the here and right now. 

But the rest of me is ok. I still haven't come to terms with the thought that winter ends. Right now it is all I know, all I can remember back to and all I can think of when I look forward. Just the cold, the dead, the stillness and what some might describe as "pristine winter wonderland" but I like to think of white winter hell. Endearingly, of course. (No.)

I don't like the winter. I won't. I can't. It won't.

I hate feeling like this. But sometimes I do. 

My car's dead. Well, the battery is, at least. I don't like to drive but I'd rather be able to have the ability to take myself out when I need to go to the doctor or buy groceries or any little thing instead of having to rely so heavily on other people to be there. 

I just want to go out and go walking barefoot in the summer. But that's like, a million years right now. The years go fast but the days go so slow. It's so weird to think about-- summertime. I'm so happy during it. Sunshine, just lying on the floor in a patch warmed by sunbeams. Usually next to my dog because she knows what's up. I love it. I miss it. This is the part of the winter where it is like, a bit over halfway but to the point where I start to go a little crazy. 

And.. FREE WEEKEND MINUTES ARE THE BEST INVENTION IN THE WORLD. Too bad I have no one to telephone.