2004-11-16 - 10:47 a.m.

The warm weather extends, I'm worrying about global warming.

It's mid-November in CoMo and there appears to be no sign of the 50-60 degree weather abating. My closet is confused. The short sleeve shirts and the long sleeve coats are waging a war, each vying for the coveted front of the rack position. The knit caps look on with a casual indifference, while the leather coat shines and waits patiently for a winter that must surely come. I mean, it has to come? Right?

There's a box of hot chocolate pacing back and forth on top of the refridgerator, there's christmas lights setting up a temporary hostel on the living room floor, and the ice scraper in my trunk is getting duller by the minute.

Fall is just as confused. If all went according to plan, by now the leaves should have fallen and the sky should be an ice-blue instead of the misty gray that swirls overhead.

So where does that leave me? I'm tightening up my resume, struggling through the day-to-day tasks that are completely commonplace these days. The alure to get out is stronger than ever.

I'd like to sail off for parts unknown, buy a nice one bedroom studio apartment, spread out on the floor and sleep for a little while. I'd like a new city to explore, or a new countryside to conquer.

It's in my nature. Always moving. I am grateful that my parents kept me on the move when I was younger. I've seen and understand things that would have comepletely escaped me if I hadn't had the opportunity to start over, over and over again.

Speaking of parents, it'll be nice to go home for Thanksgiving. There are few things in my life that are guranteed. Thanksgiving with the family is thankfully one of them. There will always be a banquet, always be a day of movies, always be a cup of hot coffee and homemade lemon meringue or pecan pie.

Goddamn the Indian Summer.

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