Snow Days

Don't judge me.

Two days ago, it started snowing. It was Sunday afternoon; Patriots squeaked out a Super Bowl win while I watched the flakes come down, heavy, self-important with their own weight, each one a fat, wet exclamation point saying, "Tom Brady is going places, but YOU are not going ANYWHERE."

And so it was.

Monday morning at 5:45am I watched Jon bravely sloughing snow off the truck and shaking ice off the trees in the front so that he could maneuver down our rutted driveway and take his rightful place in his office at work, and all I could think of was, "I am so very much immediately going back to bed right now this instant."

And so it was.

BelPres had indeed called a snow day, and once I had confirmed my suspicions and notified the troops that we'd be sitting this one out, I took a well deserved nap. After all, I had already been awake for at least 45 minutes. So, yes, I took a nap. A four and a half hour nap. 

Having awakened feeling refreshed and deliciously guilty, I hopped into church emails and took a whack at the worship service for this upcoming Sunday. I cruised Facebook, noodled around briefly with Instagram, and decided that my brain had done about half of its share of work today and therefore it was time for some crackers and peanut butter. And a teeny naplet. Which was lovely.

When I awoke, and since it was going on 1:00, I thought perhaps it might be nice to put something on other than jammies. Once I gathered up the requisite enthusiasm to do so, which took about an hour, I managed a shower and some clean clothes that I could actually be seen in public wearing, knowing full well that the public wasn't about to see anything of me at all for the duration. I found the spot on the couch that cradles my heinie with the tenderness of a lover, and I settled in. I spent quite some time staring dreamily at the snow outside, which required a great deal of emptying of the mind. It should have been harder than it was. You would think that entering this state of thought-free meditation would require something other than frozen water sitting on a tree branch, but apparently not. Perhaps there wasn't that much in my mind that required clearing out in the first place. This would not come as a big surprise to the people who know me best.

Another hour later, I did manage to be a responsible enough pet owner to take my dear old doggie out again for a pee and a poop. But that took effort on both our parts, with all the standing up and walking out and opening doors and closing them again, and therefore required an immediate return to the couch for some restoration. I considered putting on the TV but since the remote was approximately 20 inches away, requiring me to shift my bottom from the cushion upon which it was ensconced, I decided the effort wasn't worth it. I was right. And also, slightly dozy.

And so it was.

When Jon came home, covered in snow and the bold self-determination of the gainfully employed, I greeted him as the victor he is, with kisses and cheers. Then sat on my butt again in the same divot on the couch which I had occupied for most of the day.

I stayed there while we had dinner, which he made. (It was his idea, not mine, and who am I to impose?) I stayed there while I helped him look up stuff online to learn how to start up his new "smart trainer" which uses Bluetooth to connect to a computerized simulation of assorted gut-busting bike rides up cyber mountains and over virtual passes. I stayed there, in my personalized couch-dent, while he pounded out 45 minutes of overexertion and excessive sweating.

View from the couch-dent

When he was done, we both agreed that had been quite a work out. After all I had held the phone up for almost three seconds to get this shot, and I was feeling the burn. We both decided to chill for the rest of the evening, and get to bed early.

And so it was.

Today, the snowpocalypse continues. Well, actually, a significant amount of it has melted, but then a significant amount has frozen over again, which has made the roads devilishly slick and dangerous unless you have four wheel drive which of course, I do. And I would make use of it, yes, I would, if I had to go to work today. I think I would, anyway. Let's say that I would.

But since BelPres has called one more snow day, I am taking this one much more seriously, and accomplishing far more than yesterday. I am making tea, people. I took a new bowl for my cereal this morning, instead of using the one that Rusty licked yesterday, which is almost as clean. I am checking emails and texts and getting back to people in a semi-quasi-timely manner. I clicked "like" on three Facebook posts. I am flop-folding the couch blankie, an improvement from the tangled-up ball in which I left it last night before bed. I have been in street clothes since 5am. With SOCKS. I am fully clothed, people. Ok, there's no bra, but technically you can consider yourself fully clothed if you have at least half of your underwear on. And there are the socks.

I have taken the doggie out not once, not twice, but three separate times, in order to do what comes naturally. I put on a hat. I took it off again. I have put up the footrest so that I can balance this computer more easily on my lap while I nestle into my couch-dent. I am writing sentences with actual VERBS. I am a whirlwind of sedentary theoretical activity. I am the action hero for the motivationally impaired. Someday, when she is much chubbier and slower than she is now, Scarlett Johansson will play me in a movie. Perhaps it will be called "Some Snow: The Reckoning". She will not move around a whole lot, but she will repeatedly gaze intently into space as though thinking something existentially deep. There will be close ups of her blinking slowly. In the final scene, she will quietly disappear under a blanket on someone's couch and the mystery will haunt the viewers: did she die? Was she ever real? Or is she just taking a nap?

Meanwhile, this couch dent is pulling me in deeper, and this blankie is leaning suggestively against my elbow. The dog is asleep, which means he won't need a piddle break for at least another hour. Maybe two. It's been quite a day. After all, you can only accomplish so much.

Don't judge me. Or, if you must, do it quietly. SOME people around here are trying to get some shuteye.