Damn right, it's a beautiful day

It's so fucking gorgeous out today. The sun's shining like it's never gonna stop, the air is fresh, the wind is gentle. It's probably a sign of global warning and the Doom to Come, but fuck it, it's beautiful. I walked to the office today, a couple of miles. I used a route I haven't ever taken before, and it was brilliant. Walking down the little side roads, with the city ahead of me and the snowy mountain behind me, and the railroad tracks beside me.

I'm cleaning up my office today, and grading assloads of tests. Haven't really gotten to the grading part yet, since the first task is to find the damn things--hence the clean-up. Cleaning up is not something I normally do...some of y'all are snickering right now, all No shit, hon. And it's true, I have a very high tolerance for letting things lie where they fall. But the chaos has finally reached the critical mass necessary to get me off my ass, plus it's the last week of the semester, and I have to be able to justify awarding about two hundred individual course credits. I don't mind, really; once I start organizing things I find a lot of OCD satisfaction in the task.

It's all good. The weather is insanely nice, like April in Atlanta, and my window's open. Through it I can see the copper roof of the theater, and the spires of the town hall, and the flocks of pigeons circling and wheeling above the square. Holy shit, how did I get here? Why? I keep thinking this is too damn good, this strange blissful fucking joy. Sometimes I have trouble trusting it; I feel like it's a loan that I'll have to pay back with interest someday. But I know that's not how it is. God's not a Calvinist.

Anyways. Back to the clean-up.