It was just another one of a thousand cliché mornings:
As I rolled out of bed to the insistent melody of my alarm, I had a hard time believing that any time had passed since I shut my eyes approximately eight and a half (which actually sounds like a really good amount of sleep now that I’m thinking about it) hours before.
Once I was finally dressed outside on my way to the gym, the situation worsened. Everything was pitch black. All I could think about was how discouraging the winter would be for my daily AM date with the elliptical.
Sixty sweaty minutes and two articles about female identification with Hollywood stars later I was zipping my sweatshirt all the way up again, preparing myself to go back into the elements. Then when I walked outside I saw this: Maybe I’ll make it through the cold seasons alright after all