(no subject)
There are perks to coming in to work during a storm. Today, a supervisor handed out $50 gift cards to everyone who showed up two weeks ago when we got a foot of snow dumped on us. Not bad.
Made more cookies today. Sugar cookies. I think they turned out okay. Hopefully.
Mom has suggested that I bring extra clothes when I go over to their house on Christmas Eve, in case we get completely snowed in. They live at the end of a gravel drive about 100 yards long, and have to pay for their own plowing, so this is entirely possible. And, y'know, they don't mind. We were talking about how snowstorms are fun, but only if you know how to give up on any plans you'd made and just enjoy the moment. People always get worked up about snow and ice and storms and cancelled plans, and it's like, hey. If you've got a full pantry, what are you bothered about? The world is not going to explode just 'cause you got snowed in. My parents have a woodstove in case the electricity goes out, and they've got a guest bed and other means for stranded family and friends to stay, and so what if I end up stuck over there for a night or two? We'll hang out, watch movies, play games. They've got a ton of books. I'll bring my laptop. It'll all be good.
Y'know, I'm a person of habit. It keeps me sane. I do things in precise order and at precise times, and I like to plan everything. If I can handle the chaos of a snowstorm, why do so many other people get so worked up?
Then again, my parents have always made a point of celebrating storms. I can remember when I was six or seven and we got a foot of snow, and Dad amused us by dropping us in snowdrifts. I can remember the October Storm when electricity was out over much of the city and the roads were impassable and we invited a friend over to share our warm house and my mom's baking. And one of my earliest memories was a thunderstorm that knocked out the power, so we all went up to Mom and Dad's bedroom and sat on their bed and ate Oreos by the light of an oil lamp.
Sometimes, it's all about attitude.
Made more cookies today. Sugar cookies. I think they turned out okay. Hopefully.
Mom has suggested that I bring extra clothes when I go over to their house on Christmas Eve, in case we get completely snowed in. They live at the end of a gravel drive about 100 yards long, and have to pay for their own plowing, so this is entirely possible. And, y'know, they don't mind. We were talking about how snowstorms are fun, but only if you know how to give up on any plans you'd made and just enjoy the moment. People always get worked up about snow and ice and storms and cancelled plans, and it's like, hey. If you've got a full pantry, what are you bothered about? The world is not going to explode just 'cause you got snowed in. My parents have a woodstove in case the electricity goes out, and they've got a guest bed and other means for stranded family and friends to stay, and so what if I end up stuck over there for a night or two? We'll hang out, watch movies, play games. They've got a ton of books. I'll bring my laptop. It'll all be good.
Y'know, I'm a person of habit. It keeps me sane. I do things in precise order and at precise times, and I like to plan everything. If I can handle the chaos of a snowstorm, why do so many other people get so worked up?
Then again, my parents have always made a point of celebrating storms. I can remember when I was six or seven and we got a foot of snow, and Dad amused us by dropping us in snowdrifts. I can remember the October Storm when electricity was out over much of the city and the roads were impassable and we invited a friend over to share our warm house and my mom's baking. And one of my earliest memories was a thunderstorm that knocked out the power, so we all went up to Mom and Dad's bedroom and sat on their bed and ate Oreos by the light of an oil lamp.
Sometimes, it's all about attitude.