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Patience is not a virtue I thought I possessed. Grace, tact, comedic timing with sarcastic comments – those I got down, at least, that’s what I tell myself. In my 90 minute (plus my futile 15 minute attempt to drive up Priscilla) commute home, I was shocked at how spending that time alone in my car didn’t drive me insane. Cincinnati received a dumping of about 8 inches of snow (and my friends in Kalamazoo, Madison, and Breck are laughing…) which essentially closed downtown. After about 2 hours after the Opera employees and the rest of the city were allowed to leave, our president finally released us. Of course the most logical thing to do when I got home was to slip in to some warm fuzzies, and crawl into bed. I have a great view of the outside world from where I lay – a snow-covered patio, lawn, and tree area that deer frequent. I can also see, among the pile of clothes on the floor, photos of friends, one of my most favorite things – my snowglobe from my second of many trips to Disney World. I think I like it because it personifies everything good – an ideal world in large bubble that’s covered with snow, and prime real estate with some nice digs. And for the time being, I’m going to pretend that’s where I live, at least as long as the snow is here. I guess the eternal slightly more patient optimist is still around.

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