on god's white earth

During my half a mile crunchy walk to class in the rain/snow mix this morning I attempted to appreciate the great things I have the potential to half way love about winter. But why the hell did I move to practically Greenland from tropical climate? Perhaps I'm being over dramatic (which I am, because Arkansas only wishes it was awesome enough to have a tropical climate and I only wish it was awesome enough to offer palm trees and hammocks on the beach), but it is really cold out here in Western New York. After my glasses became de-fogged after walking into a heated building and I made it to class almost on time. Everyone was crammed on one side of the classroom, closest to the interior wall. The whole right side of the room was flooded. Judging by the water-stained flooring underneath, it was probably sitting there all night. How does this happen on a second story when the building has four stories, a basement, and two auditoriums? The show must go on and therefore so did class as well as a delicious moldy smell. My plan for the entire afternoon running into late evening is to snuggle up in my flannel sheets and slipper socks with a huge mug of hot chocolate with mini marshmallows and my laptop and write my 7-pager from start to finish.