once a teacher, always a teacher.
i am talking about snow days.
when i taught, the most beautiful moment was that phone call at 6:30am from the person right above me on the phone tree.
"Classes are cancelled."
(full disclosure: oftentimes my roomie and i had banked on the possibility, and i was more than happy to have a few extra hours of sleep and no prospect of having to entertain bouncy teens.)
we're on track to get a good batch of the white stuff overnight, and i'm already counting on staying home tomorrow. (if the office is open, i might seriously bawl.) i have some work to do, and some projects to play around with, a new recipe to try, and a labrador who treats snow as a gift from the heavens.
(in this instance, i think he's right.)