There's nothing like two fucking feet of snow at your doorstep (and everywhere else you look) to remind you that any feeling of control you've ever had is an illusion.
I love the illusion of control. I like choosing how I will spend my days, even within the confines of my reality, which of course, includes a job, walking a dog and a lot of other obligations. Still, I choose to work (so that I can eat), and I choose to walk my dog (so that he doesn't poop in the house). I like feeling as though I have choices, that I control the shape of my days.
But right now, mother nature is in control. And she is one miserable, sadistic bitch.
And I am fairly certain that I have written this before. Possibly this entire post, but certainly the theme of control. And my lack of growth in dealing with it.
And now that I am done ranting, I will leave you with image. I think it's called the sun. I am not sure. It's been so long since I've seen it that I barely remember.