To my surprise, today was declared a snow day at my school. Between NPR grossly underestimating last night’s snowfall and the fact that we had no snow day a week ago, with nearly as much snowfall, I expected snow warnings to prove a false alarm.
So I missed the opportunity to sleep in. Not a total loss; I didn’t need to shovel out at the crack of dawn this morning, and of course it’s nice to sit around in my pajamas through most of the morning.
There’s a price, though, one that isn’t worth the free time. Dad taught biology, and he surprised me once by complaining about a snow day he considered unnecessary. Didn’t he get the day off with the students? I asked. Well, yes, he admitted, but a snow day still meant more work for him, not less: shaken out of his well-established rhythm, he needed to figure out how to to cover all the same material in less time, which is what he spent the day doing. My brother and I shoveled.
And y’know, he was right. I would rather have gone in to work today than have to rejigger my lesson plans. And—insult to injury—I have no kids, so I had to do my own shoveling. Pfah.
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