I was just reflecting upon the snow we've had lately. In general, I love snow. I also don't really mind driving in it. What I *do* mind is other people driving in it with me, since they'll inevitably go about 10 miles an hour in the lane that's the most clear. It kind of sucks, because it makes me not like snow. Also, with the snow we've been getting at the amounts we've had, it's still on the ground and sort of dirty looking now. A perfect snow is one where the air is quiet and the world is blanketed in pure vanilla, softening sharp edges while accentuating broad shapes at the same time. This off-white gravel that I see while I'm driving around sort of depresses me.
Ho hum. I picture the perfect job for me as being an author. Then I could work from my home at (sort of) my own pace, and not be forced to make any sort of daily commute or absolutely have to brave horrible weather and bad drivers on a regular basis. Plus, I'd be doing something creative, which is also a strongly desirable point to any work I'd like to do. On the other hand, just working with a bunch of interesting people again would be pretty nice. Back in the Genuity days, we had what could have passed for a comedic (or maybe even dramatic, some days) ensemble troupe working at the data center. That was about as much fun as I've ever had at a job.