The night before you had watched the snow pile up outside your window.
You went to bed thinking perhaps there will be no school tomorrow. No. That's not true. You hoped fervently there wouldn't be. Not that you don't love your work, but as soon as the snow started falling the playful child in you woke up and began dreaming of making snowmen and drinking hot chocolate and curling up next to a fire after you've exhausted yourself playing out it the snow all day.
Your childish hope was almost answered: a two-hour delay. You discover this early the next day when your alarm goes off and you roll out of bed, ready to begin your morning rituals of yoga, breakfast, coffee. Then you remember the snow and rush to your computer to check the news as if it were a gift you couldn't wait to open. There it is. A two-hour delay.
You peak outside to see the snow glowing in the darkness. You eye the clock. For a moment, you don't know what to do. Email your students? That would be the responsible adult thing to do. Stay up and go about your routine? That would be the organized thing to do--think of all the work you could get done at home. But you leave both ideas behind in favor of the simple joy of crawling back into bed, snuggling under your pile of downy comforters and knitted blankets.
It is, after all, an almost snow day.
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