Written Tuesday, December 9, 2008 1:30 a.m.:
It's been raining steadily for hours.
The lawn outside my apartment is flooded.
I might put on some old clothes and galoshes and jump in the puddles.
My cat is mad at me because I locked him inside.
He was trying to eat a worm that slithered into my screened-in porch to find dry ground.
I batted him away from the worm, but he was quite adamant on grabbing the worm in his mouth and sneaking it back inside.
My house is dirty enough without having my cat harboring fugitive animals into it.
Mom's visiting tomorrow, so I'm working on keeping my house spotless.
It's not even cold outside, but I can see my breath as I exhale.
And my cigarette smoke hangs in the air,
Not wanting to flow out into the cold, hard rain.
I have to learn to fully extinguish my cigarettes to avoid my beautifully painted ashtray from busting.
My dad gave me that ashtray this past summer.
It's ironic that my dad and I have bonded more this past year.
I think it's only because we take many smoke breaks together when I'm home.
Not to say that my dad and I weren't close before...
I'm a daddy's girl and always have been.
I'm exactly like my dad, so we've never had to force a bond between us.
There are understood words and actions that accompany spending time with my dad.
Mom and I are very close, but I've always felt I need to explain myself to her,
Even though my whole life she's been able to read me like a book.
It's raining even harder now and the rain is making spectacular designs on the porch screen.
Some neighbors across the lawn have decided to enjoy the unseasonably warm rain shower also.
I feel like my privacy has been invaded.
Time to finish cleaning.
Friday, December 12, 2008 12:11 a.m.
My last journal entry the weather was warm with a cold rain. Now there's a shivering blanket of snow covering Murfreesboro. I don't think I've seen it snow so hard in four years. I remember it; my freshman year of college my mom, sister, and my best friend Austin were visiting for the weekend and it snowed a foot.

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