Snow Angels

A lot of people don't know this fact about my mom. Actually, most people probably don't know about it. But every year, about midway through the snow season (also called winter), my mom puts on her winter coat, walks out the back door, flops down in a big fluffy patch of white, and makes a snow angel. In previous years, I've scoffed at her efforts. But this year, when she invited me to come with, I figured, 'why not?' I mean, really, what criticism could anyone possibly have with a twenty-seven-year-old man making snow angels in the backyard with his mother? There's nothing creepy or strange about that. Right? I don't care. It was fun. Cold because I didn't put on any socks. But fun. We laughed for quite a while after because, what a silly thing we just did. How could you not at least giggle a little after something like that?

The rest of the day was good, eventful. For one, I started reading the fiction writing book put out by the Gotham Writer's Workshop (can't remember the name). At this point, it's a good book as far as writing books go. I've read a bunch of writing books/articles already, and this one might end up being somewhere at the top of the list. I'm going to restrain myself here. Whenever I read any of these writing books (even bad ones), I get crazy excited about writing. The good ones really make me think on that deeper level of writing, and the bad ones make me think just as deeply as I build my case against their errors and omissions. So, in short, I wrote a bit today (2.1).

I sent out another resume/cover letter. I'm frustrated but not hopeless. The job will come. Soon.

Treadmill, Yogalates (10, 13, 16, 17)

I don't know if I'm ready to remove number 19 from the list yet or not. I mean, I can cook. I can make food that tastes pretty good. I don't know. I think I'll leave it there for a while. But I'm not going to mention it every time I prepare meal.

I'm tired. I'm not leaving out anything exciting. But trust me. I did indeed do stuff today.

I'm grateful for snowangelmom (20).