I want snow. Cool weather, and snow and no more sun and heat. Then everybody wears a mop of snowy hair, and looks somewhat like a cat that ran out of a shower that has been forced on it. People look funny, cute, fresh, happy, and miserable all at the same time – just like that cat. And if they are complaining about how much they hate the snow, while holding on to their ears, swearing at the weather, the middle of nowhere called Nebraska – and themselves for having shown the stupidity of not bringing a hat – that makes them look even more cute and Christmasy, even if they are trying to look all fierce and world-hating. And then you pick up some snow, make a firm crunchy ball and throw it at one of your friends who has that cat-look – and you both end up in a snow fight, too busy to swear at the weather anymore. And then blankets and hot chocolate – a huge mug of this goodness held tight by your red happy warming-up fingers. And then you sit on the furnace, because it becomes your sole source of happiness after which you go to Walmart because you want to get yourself a hat, because you realize you misplaced the one you thought you had, and you get the cheapest hat, and it sits all funny on your head, slides sideways and exposes your ears to the very-much-hated-yet-loved Christmas weather. You curse the weather, take off the hat and continue walking with your ears falling off from cold – and smile because it is still a better feeling then a hat falling off. Then you go inside and put on your hat – because everybody is wearing hats, and it just feels cosy – only for a few minutes though until your hat starts sliding off and then you take it off and throw it against the wall, grieving about the fact that it won't hurt it any – because by now you are starting to hate your hat more than the weather. And then you look out of the window – it went dark, the street lights are on, and huge snowflakes are slowly floating obeying the force of gravity – and at this exact moment you realize that you can give the world for a mop of snowy hair. You run outside. You look into the sky and you can't move – homework, people, sleep – nothing matters anymore. You are mesmerized by the blanket the sky is covering the earth with. The snowflakes appear out of nowhere, the size of sand – and then they grow bigger and bigger – until they fall on your nose and cheeks, making those hurt and creating a smile on your face without you realizing it. You are starting to get cold – but it really does not matter. You walk a few more steps on the fresh-fallen shiny and crunchy snow trying to absorb what's around you – and comprehend what is happening to you. Suddenly you start running around and laughing – bathing in that fresh sea of snow. You feel happy – not for any particular reason – you just feel good and you don't need anything else in your life. Then you look at the clock – you have a night shift to work – and it's time for you to go get ready for it. You leave the heaven – a little bit sad that it's over – but understanding that if it went longer, it would have gotten old. You feel ready to leave the miracle and face the life – and you are confident that you are strong enough to deal with it. You think about your night shift – and smile.