Ah yes, the inspirational hopes of an unexpected few hours.
Reality, though, is far and away different. I am sitting around nursing an earache that may well be an infection (I'll find out at the doctor's office where the school nurse has directed me), set up the wrapping station but never actually use it, put stamps on the holiday cards that need extra postage, ignore the exams in my backpack and save them in case I need to call in sick, start my final paper, ignore the filthy house, hit the start button on the dishwasher, watch NCIS (I know my priorities), and field a few phone calls. I can't shovel out the car because it's still snowing like a banshee well past my bedtime. That means the shower will have to wait, as well. Maybe I'll get to bed at a reasonable hour, but then it all tumbles into the morning. Maybe I'll just field-bomb my way out of the driveway (a definite advantage to parking nose out).
I'll have to wear a damn hat, though. I suppose the only thing worse than flat, static-riddled hair is a flaming, infection-riddled eardrum. I have so much to do, so very much to do, but it's all minutiae. The big stuff is done. Not much left to do but enjoy the holidays. And wrap presents, and finish the holiday cards, and correct exams, and write Friday's paper, and clean the house, and shovel out the car, and take a shower, and go grocery shopping, and finish up last minute presents, and get my hair trimmed, and pick up the kid at college, and ...
So much for an evening off. I'll let you know what that feels like if it ever actually happens. Until then, happy snow storm. Now get off yer asses and come help me shovel.
