Today while driving to work, I was listening to music and actually in a very decent mood.  Somewhat around the middle of the trip on the expressway I realized I was going about 90 mph, although it didn't seem like it at all.  It had rained the night before, and there was a heavy fog on the expressway around Palatine road.  "Can't Change Me" was playing and as I stared at the winding slabs of gray concrete, the cinderblock border wall, and the gray foggy sky, it was very ethereal feeling; one of those rare moments in life that you wouldn't really want to end, or at the very least forget.  It was going to be an ethereal day, I later realized.  Coming back from work, the expressway opened up mysteriously whenever I neared congestion, the fragile pattern never being disrupted.  I think I made my best time on it yet.  Peering out the window, the man-made lake at some paltn looked surprisingly mysterious and calm, it was overly smooth, like the top of a cut geode or something.  I couldn't figure out why.  In the evening, driving home from Tim's I took a slight detour to see if a certain person was outside.  They weren't, but while driving back Radiohead's "The Tourist" popped on, and the gleaming streetlights, darkness, and overall mood I was in set me up to connect with the song like I hadn't since the summer of 1997 when it came out.