Spring is a Time of New Beginnings, Flowers, Love, and Mud

It's obnoxiously muddy outside the office today, which, coupled with the warm air and suspicious lack of snow, must mean it's Spring. You don't get mud in Winter, no sir. Just hard, dry, oddly shaped frozen dirt.

I don't miss the tundra, but I can't say I like the mud a whole lot better. I've gone back to wearing my crappy gray sneakers to work instead of my excellent new leather boots, at least until there's not so much mud. You think you're about to walk across a regular old patch of harmless-looking grass, then bam, you're in three inches of water and the grass is floating on top like hurricane wreckage. My socks have gone blue.

Honestly I don't see how people with religion can get through the day. If I thought somebody had organized this nonsense I'd be livid. Guess there's no mud in Heaven. Is there mud in Hell? It would really only be a problem if I was wearing my excellent new leather boots, and somehow a Hell in which I get to wear my excellent boots doesn't seem so bad. There must not be mud there. Then again, a mudless Hell sounds okay too.

Lunchtime.