Breakfast?

Here are the snowy trees outside of our bedroom window.


Yesterday morning I was walking to work and cramming a strawberry cashew granola bar in my mouth when I crossed paths with a police officer dressed in a thermal police uniform. He looked down at my granola wrapper and said, "Breakfast?" and in that small moment I stopped feeling like a visitor of Boston. Instead of a person needing directions or help I was just another person eating breakfast on the run. At long last!

I think the other part of not feeling like a visitor anymore has to do with my new galoshes. When we moved here, and I noticed that all the other girls had waterproof boots to tuck their pants into I decided pretty quickly that I didn't really like the idea of scrunching my pants into rubbery shoes. Well, that all came to an abrupt change with the snowstorm that swept into the area on Monday morning. I woke up at 6am excited to greet the snow with a cup of hot chocolate sitting in front of the window. I'll skip the part about being on the other side of the the window in my cloth sneakers as well as the frostbite part and tell you that my new galoshes are shiny and navy blue and have saved my life with every step the past couple of days.

My new job is really nice and quiet. My boss graduated from college 1n 1944 and makes sure that I have a dessert with lunch every day. And, from the windows in my department, I can see the library, the building where my classes will be when they start next week, and the spot where I was inhaling the strawberry bar.