Norris looks to the sky and thinks about life. His world is inside my house and the one time I tried to take him outside, he had a nervous breakdown. From then on, he's stayed inside. He looks much bigger than he is, because his fur is all poofy and needs groomed. He talks a lot. He likes to sleep in toolboxes. He's a good kitten. He's stuck around with me and said he'll keep on sticking it out with me.

Thanks, Norelai.

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I look at this face and I hear his voice. Well, not everyone can hear his voice. Just me, really. We talk to each other a lot. I don't think he's all that happy with me recently. I have been wrong in the past. Tonight, I'm sure, he'll lick my hand and I'll feel a lot better. Right now, I'm sure that he's rather done with me.

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I woke up and looked out my window at the untouched winter of my backyard. I imagine looking past those trees and through all the houses and wishing everyone a good morning, as the sun first tips itself to us and the sky is made of so many colors. Good morning, everyone.

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Remember those miles that I hate?

I hated them today again.

Hate those miles.

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Rubberneckers. I hate me some.

Do we really need to view someone else's mistake?

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Snow was fun when I was a kid. It meant staying warm and home and not having to go to school.

Snow is no fun when I'm an adult. It means driving on icy roads and having to go to work.

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I came down from the hill, dizzy from sleep and saw the lights of the city in front of me, telling me that everything was awesome.

I cannot argue with the lights.

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