Purgatory isn't actually as bad as the Catholics claim. There's books, "Krik! Krak!" by Edwidge Danticat, which was awesome, and "The Count of Monte Cristo" which is one of my favorites. There's tea and a fireplace and sun. And right now it's even 20° and snowing. And we had phenomenal venison steak for dinner last night. Okay, so why is the Ceronskys' house in Minneapolis purgatory?

Because I'm here waiting for my future to be decided. U23's may or may not happen because of the snow conditions in Italy. So I canceled my flight that would have departed today at noon and rescheduled for one Tuesday morning. Monday I find out whether I get to actually take that flight or whether I take my bags, packed with care and hope, and return to Hayward. I'm either headed to heaven or hell and here I sit, not knowing.

(not that I think of Hayward as hell, I quite enjoy it there, but it's by far the less desirable of the two options.)