Why I Don't Like Snow Days
I love vacation. I love long weekends and holidays and summer break. I don't like snow days.
It's not just the adult responsibilities that come with snow, though that is part of it. I have a very committed housemate who always shovels, salts, or snow blows the snow from my driveway. I rarely find myself with a shovel in hand.
I love the beauty of snow, the glittering white world that makes the ugliest landscapes graceful.
But I hate the inconvenience and danger of it. I hate feeling out of control when I'm behind the wheel, that I'm trapped by snow or that I'm sliding along, unable to protect myself and those around me.
Even more than the inconvenience, though, I hate the boredom. I love my job and I would rather be teaching than sitting at home, listening to salt trucks beeping down the street. One doesn't prepare for a snow day the way one prepares for vacation. When I know I have a few days off, I plan to see friends, I buy a few books I've been meaning to read, I make plans to fill the time. Preparing for snow days means preparing for a non-snow day first, as in, be ready for whatever you'd originally planned for that day, AND getting ready for a snow day second--shovels, salt, enough food... Snow days make me feel restless.
Snow days are unwanted sabbaths. When I walked through Spain in my sophomore year of college, I walked for three straight weeks, every day, at least ten miles. The tenth day I realized I needed a Sabbath, not even a day with no walking, just a day with less. People are hard-wired for breaks, for time off. I believe it's necessary for their mental, physical, and spiritual health. But just as too many days without a sabbath is exhausting, too many sabbaths together makes one jittery. I am not only hard-wired for sabbaths, I am also hard-wired for work.
It's not just the adult responsibilities that come with snow, though that is part of it. I have a very committed housemate who always shovels, salts, or snow blows the snow from my driveway. I rarely find myself with a shovel in hand.
I love the beauty of snow, the glittering white world that makes the ugliest landscapes graceful.
But I hate the inconvenience and danger of it. I hate feeling out of control when I'm behind the wheel, that I'm trapped by snow or that I'm sliding along, unable to protect myself and those around me.
Even more than the inconvenience, though, I hate the boredom. I love my job and I would rather be teaching than sitting at home, listening to salt trucks beeping down the street. One doesn't prepare for a snow day the way one prepares for vacation. When I know I have a few days off, I plan to see friends, I buy a few books I've been meaning to read, I make plans to fill the time. Preparing for snow days means preparing for a non-snow day first, as in, be ready for whatever you'd originally planned for that day, AND getting ready for a snow day second--shovels, salt, enough food... Snow days make me feel restless.
Snow days are unwanted sabbaths. When I walked through Spain in my sophomore year of college, I walked for three straight weeks, every day, at least ten miles. The tenth day I realized I needed a Sabbath, not even a day with no walking, just a day with less. People are hard-wired for breaks, for time off. I believe it's necessary for their mental, physical, and spiritual health. But just as too many days without a sabbath is exhausting, too many sabbaths together makes one jittery. I am not only hard-wired for sabbaths, I am also hard-wired for work.