I Can't Help It

As it turns out, we're an optimistic bunch here at my school. There was a decent chance that today would be a snow day, and everyone (staff and students alike, but mainly staff) was reminding everyone else to sleep tonight with their pajamas on backwards and inside out. I don't know if that's just a Michigan superstition, or what?!? In any case, there was a lot of hope in the air yesterday... a good amount of it coming from me.

I'm sure Max will tell you that last night I was practically giddy with hope at having my first snow day ever. He, on the other hand, was completely intent on squashing said hope by saying such foreboding things like "I went a whole year without a snow day", and "don't get your hopes up!", and "you're not getting a snow day". What is it with pessimists that they have to bring everyone down to their level? Oops, did I say "pessimist"? I meant "realist".

In the end, it doesn't matter if you're an optimist or a pessimist/realist: either it's a snow day, or it isn't.

It wasn't.

Not only was it disappointing not to get that super-special phone call, but I had gotten up twenty-five minutes earlier than usual in anticipation of the snow I would have to scrape off of my car. You know, because I'm responsible and like to get to work on time. Imagine my dismay when I looked outside and there was NO SNOW. Instead, there was what looked like a very light dusting of the tiniest amount of powdered sugar on the ground. Disappointment became exhaustion in the blink of an eye.

Some of you would think that I have learned a valuable lesson about "not getting your hopes up", or "listening to your husband who's always right", or "commuting an hour each way to work". But those people would be wrong. Because, Sunday? Sunday night we're supposed to get freezing rain. And I'll be wearing my pajamas inside out and backwards all weekend long.