Sometimes you don’t always know the question, but the answer is a travel mug of earl grey tea swirled with a packet of Stevia and a drop of cream.
The answer is sitting at a reception desk and having a sprightly middle-aged man complimenting your “beautiful smile” while signing out.
The answer is a stranger half speaking and half singing hello in a musical voice that sounds neither corny nor phony.
The answer is a grizzly grey day that threatens snow, but save for a few flurries at 7:30 has managed to remain intermittent rain (I hear we are getting up to a foot of snow by tomorrow, but it is enough for this moment that it is not snowing NOW).
The answer is a distracting internet debate in which no one cares about evaluating opposing perspectives–just defending their own point. (The alternation between amusement and despair over the state of humanity is quite the engaging roller coaster; and I am far too fond of pot stirring).
The answer is tiny, nearly-not-there nubs dotting the bare branches on the trees outside the lobby window, promising that though it’s going to snow again today, spring will be here soon.
The answer is waiting for spring the way a child waits for Christmas–yearning it into an anticlimactic arrival appreciated far less than the patience exercised in its eager anticipation.
The answer is having a few answers, even though the question isn’t fully formed.