I'm pretty tired. Think I'll go home now.

It's only Wednesday, but I feel pretty worn out. My struggle to get out of bed and go to work this morning was epic. I think the resurgence of the cold is playing a part in that; two mornings ago there was ice on the inside of my car. It was the first time I had ever seen that. Crazy stuff. Anyway, I was going to write something more substantial today, but I'm not really feeling it.

Yesterday I left work at the absolute perfect time. I stepped outside the main doors of the company building and looked out at Squaw Peak. It was glowing pink; the snow atop the mountain was reflecting the gorgeous hue of an amazing sunset in the western sky. Mt. Timpanogas was also alight with the rays of the setting sun. I was taken aback when I looked at both peaks simultaneously, and I wished I had my camera on hand. Every once in a while I'll see something that I wish I could preserve forever. Even if I had my camera yesterday, the pictures couldn't have captured that breathtaking scene as vividly as it truly was. And now my words are failing miserably to convey the grandeur of that moment.

It's a shame that some of life's greatest experiences are the most impossible ones to share with others. How do we communicate pure emotion or transcendent experiences, which by definition go beyond the limits of perception? I remember feeling the inadequacy of words often as a missionary, and not just because I was speaking in a second language I was picking up as I went a long. Oh well, I know what I saw. I really didn't mean to go off on this tangent.

I worked ten hours today. Crazy, I know. I did it because I left work Monday a little early to catch a matinee, and I plan on doing the same thing tomorrow. I'm pretty committed to seeing every film nominated for the Best Picture Oscar before the Academy Awards air. I've been successful in doing that the last two years, and I don't see why I can't accomplish it this year. Most of the five films have either just arrived in Provo or will in the upcoming weeks, and they're all coming out at the same time so I have to scramble to catch them all. Not that I mind much, only when I have to drive up to Salt Lake to catch a film I really want to see at the Broadway Theater (the only independent theater nearby) because none of the theaters in Provo will air films that the masses (i.e. escapist and less than enlightened viewers) won't pay to see. Yes, I am a movie snob, but in my defense, I do know a little bit about film and narratives and all that.

I'm looking forward to the weekend. The Bricks, the intramural basketball team I play on, has its second game this Friday at 6 p.m., and I'm hoping we fare as well as we did in our first game. Saturday morning I get to drive to Vernal (2.5 hours from Vernal), attend one of my best friend's wedding reception later that afternoon, and then drive back to Provo for much anticipated additional festivities that night. It should be a good weekend. Nothing like having 5 hours in a car by myself to rock out and think about life and all that.

I have no more thoughts to share at this time.