Moving bundled blobs
scrape their cars and go to work.
Adults don't get snow days.
And that is why I am glad I am not an adult, and never plan to become one. I am a student, meaning I get snow days from school. I work at an after-school program in a middle school, meaning I get snow days from work. And I am studying to become a teacher, meaning I will get snow days forever.
Even though I may be an "adult" by definition, I hope I never loose the childlike anticipation of a stolen day of freedom that comes with a fresh sheet of snow. The last couple of nights, I have stayed glued to my computer, obsessively refreshing my my schools' homepage, crossing my fingers as the pages load. It hasn't been much different from when I used to beg my parents to let me stay up for ten more minutes to watch the local news channels scroll through the school closings one more time, crossing my fingers as my USD 306 approached.
I know I should be worried about my diminishing paycheck, as my work hours slip away in the snowstorm. I should also maybe worry about the extra homework my professors will give us to make up for the missed time. But for now, I would rather just sit in my pajamas watching the snow fall on the "adults" scraping their windows in my parking lot below.
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