Les neiges d'avril

On reconnections:
I love to reconnect. I love the word reconnect, with all its glorious consonant sounds. I love the world and all its reconnections. Why on earth does my computer say that I just spelled reconnections incorrectly? My goodness, there it goes again. Apparently I spelled it right the first time, but not the last two. Those small red squiggly lines are blatantly accusing in an insulting manner, as if they were better than I because they think I spelled a word incorrectly. Unfortunately for those small little red lines, I have an upper hand; I can turn off spell check because I have complete and utter faith in my own spelling. Because Spelling Bees ARE cool, no matter what 'they' say.* Unfortunately, what I do lack faith in is my own capacity to locate the trigger of which I can turn off spell check. So I will just have to live with my own faults, I daresay.
Ah, yes...reconnections. How full of opportunity, coincidence, and curiosity they are- like the first tulips sprouting from seemingly inhospitable soil or the taste of vanilla ice cream melting on your fingers for the first time in a year- surprise that once again the sun is close enough to force a change of state upon your ice cream.

On getting more sleep: What a glorious concept indeed- if only I decided to actually pull through with this. See, I make the conscious decision to get ready for bed by 9:15 every night so that I can not be miserable, cranky, and tired the next day. I then always find something to do because it feels as if 'late' is too far away a time to ever be plausible- and soon enough, after phone conversations, tv episodes, or blog entries, it is once again late. And soon again, early. I really must seek a way to end this cycle of unfortunate..well, cycling. And not in the bicycle way.

On math tests: I will fail them. All of them. I am much too un-mathematically inclined for my own good. My brain understands things, and then "I" get in the way** with my tomfoolery and confusing statements and over-thinking and refusal to believe in the power of a calculator in a knowing hand.

On snowstorms in the place of rainstorms: It's not right. And what is not right, is wrong. Like killing puppies or picking at cuticles.

Look, I made footnotes:
*They- now who, really, is they? It is a question much pondered throughout the ages. I need to find they, and argue with them about many points that they have made throughout history. We should probably stop listening to them, whoever they are, and burn their instruction manuals and bibles- I'm just saying.
** Now, it could be put to debate who this 'I' really is that is confusing my brain- n'est pas que this 'I' really must be my brain? Could my brain be arguing and confusing itself? Is there more than one self in a brain, or my brain, and can they argue amongst themselves about seemingly pointless but albeit needful things, i.e. polynomial equations?