I feel like a kid again. They’re predicting snow, it’s Tuesday, and for the first time in my 6.5 years of working adulthood, my workplace has acknowledged the snow coming with a late opening and possible closing. I usually have the dread feeling that I’ll be trudging to work, white knuckled and praying that I don’t crash. Today, I have that feeling like when you were 10 and you had done your homework so you didn’t jinx it (yes, I was that kid, not the one who assumed it was a snow day and didn’t do the homework…). At least among my friends, common knowledge was that the night before snow, you sleep with your jammies inside out with a spoon under your pillow. Any idiot knows that’s the best way to assure a snow day.
And so I have high hopes of lounging around all day tomorrow playing cat. Playing cat looks like this. It can also involve ordering pretty yarn and knitting or spinning. And watching old movies, probably.
I’m pretty sure that if you’re a very good person, you get to come back as a cat, in a nice home. One where there is a giant comfy bed about 20 times bigger than your whole body, where there are nice people who pet you, who tell you how pretty you are, and even maybe make up songs about you. They’d give you treats, and get you catnip, and toys, and pretty much make everyday the best day ever. And your sole job would be to lounge around and look cute and make sure you poop in the right place. That’s about it. Everything else is taken care of. I hope tomorrow is like that.