Snowman in the front yard of our apartment building this morning.

Here are two quotes from the opening pages of a book I’m teaching right now, one of my all-time favorites, Milan Kundera’s The Unbearable Lightness of Being:

A single metaphor can give birth to love.

We can never know what to want, because, living only one life, we can neither compare it with our previous lives nor perfect it in our lives to come.

Today I’ve been discombobulated. Even though I’m waist-deep in new music, I’ve been obsessively listening to an old Death Cab For Cutie song on repeat for the last two hours. I know I should listen to something else, especially because this particular song makes me sad, but I won't. I'll just keep listening to it over and over until the trumpets sound. This is the song:

Passenger Seat

I roll the window down
And then begin to breathe in
The darkest country road
And the strong scent of evergreen
From the passenger seat as
you are driving me home.

Then looking upwards
I strain my eyes and try
To tell the difference between
shooting stars and satellites
From the passenger seat as
you are driving me home.

"Do they collide?"
I ask and you smile.
With my feet on the dash
The world doesn't matter.

When you feel embarrassed
then I'll be your pride
When you need directions
then I'll be the guide
For all time.
For all time.

Update from the lab: I’m on the downward slope, exiting Act II, now rummaging through the conclusion. Things look quite promising.