We all sit and wait patiently for the snow. Fourteen minutes until weather.com’s predicted flurries. I watch as Facebook statuses change from excited to anxious to frantic. AIM chat boxes flash open on my window and my friends inform me about other schools closing. I constantly refresh the Emergency Closing Center, watching as one Chicago school after another decides to shut its doors the day before break. But why are we so desperate to miss school?
I love the holidays more than anyone. I love the smiles on everyone’s faces, the cheery music playing around the city, the gift displays in shop windows. I love that people give out candy for no reason, that saying “Happy Holidays” to no one in particular is perfectly acceptable, and that the world seems to stop for six weeks as all this perfection surrounds us. So why, exactly, would we want to miss out on a day of this bliss to spend twelve hours in a basement drinking hot chocolate, eating cookie dough, and watching The L Word? (Yes, that is exactly how I plan to spend my snow day—seven minutes until predicted flurries!)
School becomes an unpredictable routine. The periods drag on while we know what to expect next, less than thrilled to have another day of discussing the reading or reviewing the notes. We complain and complain and just like that, poof, it’s gone. I have a hard time believing that at this time next year I can be living in Ohio, New York, St. Louis, Ann Arbor? It’s scary to fall out of the routine I’ve taken for granted for so many years.
Performing at the middle schools today with chorus was somewhat surreal. Sure, I did my fair amount of complaining but I was mostly in awe of how old we’ve all become. I walked the halls of my old middle school like I just attended yesterday, smiling as I saw girls in their blue and white pleated pom-pom skirts, remembering how cool I used to think I was wearing my uniform before a basketball game. We were introduced as the top group from the high school; I remember sitting in the auditorium seats, watching Chorale perform, wishing I was part of the group. And now I am—but where have the last four years gone?
Sure, we’ve done our share of complaining. Begging to get out of anything, skip a test, miss school. But there are so many good things that have happened along the way. We’ve all grown up, had new experiences, learned right from wrong. (Well, most of us.) I, for one, have become aware that dancing around with puffy shreds of plastic in your hands makes you look like more of a fool than anything else. But it’s all gone by so fast—dare I say too fast?
And as my countdown moves to negative eight minutes until predicted snow (yes, it’s late…) I have mixed feelings about missing another day of school when we have so few left. Sure, I would be elated to skip my stats test, but eventually, I will have to take it. And yes, I could sleep in, but I have the rest of my life to do that.
So as I wait to see if the “Severe Weather” actually hits at in twenty two minutes (although flurries have yet to come—negative ten minutes late) I am determined to make tomorrow and everyday there after the best day ever, snow or not.