Oh. My. Heck.

What a crazy night of work.

First off, as I was driving to work tonight I got caught in a blizzard. I prayed, and I sang hymns, and I felt inclined to think about what would happen if I slipped off the edge of the highway and died. I pleaded with God to let me stay. And I thought how it would be exciting to see Grandpa Davis if He didn't let me stay. But I figured Grandpa Davis and probably some other people, too, wanted me to stay.

I wasn't sure whether to pull over, keep driving, or turn around and go home. But I was expected at work. And there were other people on the road, too. So I kept driving. When the snow really got bad, I'd already entered the canyon and didn't have cell service anymore. So I plunged onward at 25 miles an hour.

I was half an hour late to work, and my co-worker hadn't arrived yet. When one of the day shift people called her to see if she was okay, she said she had been pulled over by a highway patrolman who told her to turn around and go home. Because there was only one of me, and also because the storm was bad, the two day-shifters had to stay.

It was funny to start out the shift with them. One of them was almost giddy at the thought of sitting and watching a movie on my laptop. A Series of Unfortunate Events and 3 episodes of The Office later, however, they were both out cold. One is sleeping at my end of the hall, and the other is sleeping at the other end. Both are laying flat on their stomachs. I am safely perched on the "sick bed," a sort of futon built into the wall.

"Safely perched." Because a few minutes ago, I thought I saw a mouse in the corner of my eye. I dismissed the idea, because when I first got hired, the program director had hired someone to come "take care of the mouse problem." I had heard them scuttling around in the walls, and outside the windows, but hadn't ever seen one face to face.

But a couple minutes after I thought I had imagined seeing a mouse, I really did see a mouse. It ran out onto the carpet, and stood there, inches from my sleeping co-workers face. I refrained from screaming because I knew if she woke up she would be completely terrorized, and every girl in this place would wake up, too. The little mousey ran under the pillow her head's on, and then retraced its steps and ran away again.

Anyway, I'm happy to be up here on this "sick bed." And I'm happy to be alive. I'm grateful to have Buck the 4-Runner, with four-wheel drive for storms. I'm happy there are only 3 more hours left in this shift. I'm happy that this week is Thanksgiving. I'm happy that today is my third-to-last shift at this place--ever. I'm happy to have had a job.

I'm happy that God lives and the Savior came. I had a realization in the car today that I really haven't done everything I want to, yet. I also realized that no matter when this life ends, Jesus Christ will have to make up for my shortcomings. I felt extremely humbled to imagine my lack of preparedness to meet God, despite my efforts. Yet somehow I felt assured that He would make it okay. I feel so grateful for that today, and wish I could feel this grateful more often without almost dying.