You ever have one of those days when you just don’t want to
think about anything? Like, you try really hard to think about algebra or the
intense creepiness of Supernatural Sam/Dean fan fiction or puppies but instead
your brain just makes a low whirring noise? That would be me today. My brain
has been sputtering occasionally but it’s mostly white noise up there. I am
thinking perhaps it has frost bite.
Snow days were more fun when I was a kid and I didn’t have to use up my paid vacation time in order to stay home where it is warm and there is slightly less risk of being involved in a car accident. Back then I didn’t have to deal with call-out guilt either. Nothing ruins a sick or snow day quite like call-out guilt. To combat that guilt I decided I was going to be productive.
I was prepared. I had a list of topics that I wanted to blog
about.
I looked at the list and then looked at my computer, and the
blinking cursor of judgment, and then back at the list. And I realized that I
just have no desire to think today. I care about all of these topics enough to
have written them down so that they would not be lost in the dusty corridors of
my feeble brain and here I am, sitting on my couch with the leisure to write
about them for hours and hours if I like. And yet….
I keep looking
out the window at the snow that just won’t quit. It feels like it’s been
snowing for about two years and, much like the Congressman who had concerns
about too many troops causing Guam to tip over, I am worried about my poor
little island giving in and sinking to the bottom of the Atlantic or perhaps
floating off somewhere. That’s how islands work, right? Too much weight and we
lose our structural integrity and become unmoored. Right? I’m thinking Long
Island is just about ready for that. And spring just feels so far away. Maybe
we’ll float off somewhere warm and I’ll want to go outside again. Or maybe
we’ll be the new Atlantis. Do you think they’ll be wi-fi in New Atlantis?
When all else fails, cook. How bout some Drunken Tofu Scramble to combat that call-out guilt?
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