Day 23 and no signs of life on the tough streets of Chicago. My food supply is low and my liquor is depleted. Oh, the humanity.

My journey home was horrific as I had to wait for the #4 Cottage Grove bus in blizzard-like conditions as I left my Super Bowl party. (It was quite fun I might add.) The bus approached and I gingerly boarded holding tightly onto what little belongings I had left as to protect them from the other tired and angry riders. As I approached my stop after the 3 minute commute I could see my street into the distant. I was nearly home. I looked up into the night sky and exalted, “My God, Thank you!”

My hope was not lost as I dredged through the knee-high snow toward my humble abode. I shivered as the cruel snow repeatedly slapped me in the face. I hoped for deliverance as the final 1/4 mile loomed through the frozen over-priced condos of the Hyde Park neighborhood. And it happened as swiftly as my thoughts came rushing, the connecting bus sped past me while I was lost in my pain. No!, I screamed as the local Jeffrey zoomed past the snow drifts like they were small speed bumps that had outgrown their usefulness. Why? Why?

I was now dejected. I was ready to lie down and let the elements take me in my current form: pathetic, hurt, and disenfranchised.

But HOPE did happen.

And out of the night sky a light reflected in my eyes. No, not an oncoming vehicle but the street lamp of my block. I mustered up the little energy I had to endure the elements and make my final steps towards that light. It’s warm glow fueled me and I headed in that direction. I finally came to rest on the steps of my pad, frozen and broken but alive. My journey during Snowmageddon Chicago will forever remain in history as the day I found the strength to overcome. I smiled and let out a sigh of relief.

Next time I’m gonna drive. Screw this.

Go well and with love good peeps.