If my life was a horror movie, I’d most certainly be dead based on the atmosphere you provided for my trip home last night. Basically I was confronted with the fog wall of death. You want to see more than 2 feet in front of you. Haha. Nope. Have some fog. Have some streetlights trying to shine through the fog. Have an abandoned parking lot.
I know how that scene is supposed to go. Plucky, brunette nerd convinces herself to stop being so silly because life is not a movie. She drifts through the fog towards her car. It’s fine. It’s fine. She says to herself. There is no scientific basis for fog equaling murderers hiding just out of sight. She reaches for the keys as she enters a particularly dense fog patch. boom . dead.
Thankfully your plucky nerd is still kicking. Either there were no murderers hiding in the fog or my well executed plan of running from my work building to the car like a flailing Olympic sprinter paid off. What? It’s not like my colleagues could see me, there was too much fog.
So today I’m basically thankful that there were no murderers in the fog. Or else I’m thankful for the fact that there were really slow murderers in the fog.