Mario Villalobos

Cold and Dreary

  • Journal

It’s been dreadfully cold in my parts of Montana the last few days, so much so that I can feel my beard freezing. I took this photo on my iPhone while running errands yesterday morning, and I considered deleting it because it wasn’t the picture I wanted to take, but it shows that thick layer of fog I found beautiful and wanted to capture. For the past week, I hadn’t been able to see the mountains, and when I saw them clearly this morning, I didn’t realize how oppressive things had felt without them visible. All told, I had a good and productive day today, one where my mood was good and unlike that of the past few days.

I had a Zoom meeting in the morning where the lady I was chatting with was loopy as hell, and she kept bragging to me how she’s never like this with any of her other clients, so I should feel lucky I was getting this side of her. “Manic Mondays,” she said. I found it charming, and I enjoyed our Zoom meeting. Later in the day, I had to make a call to a customer service rep, and during our conversation, she asked me what the weather in Montana was like, and I told her it was dreadful. I checked the weather app and said, “It’s 29°. That’s actually on the warmer side, but it’s still miserable.”

“I would rather it be 29° than in the 70s,” she said. “I love the cold.”

“That makes one of us.”

This morning, as I was wrapped in my blankets and had my heater on full blast, I thought about how I only had ten more of these entries to write before November ends. Ten more of these and ten more Pimsleur Japanese lessons before I complete level 5. There are only five levels, with each level consisting of 30 lessons. As of this morning, I had ten of each to do, and now, I have nine. I believe that’s how math works. I was so excited, I blasted Haru To Shura by Haru Nemuri on my way to work. I can sing along to many of her songs, but I maybe understand 10% of what she’s saying. I recently learned that () by Sigur Rós is sung in “Hopelandic,” a made-up language consisting of gibberish words.

I find that beautiful, just as much as I find a thick fog in freezing temperatures to be beautiful.