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Judul : Confession Tuesday
link : Confession Tuesday

Confession Tuesday

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god I hate snow. I mean, we’re in a weather pattern where it snows every other day. Some days it’s flurries, others call for school closings and days off from work. I have a snowblower but my back aches because I have to shovel—you must shovel. The mounds are too big so the snow topples over. There’s too much of it with nowhere to put it.

And let me tell you what snow does the psyche: it buries it. I don’t have space in my little brain for anything else. All I see is white. I can’t shake the feeling of claustrophobia. The driveway mounds are higher than the top of my car, so entering that space feels like I’m digging myself out of a coffin. If the snow piles were to topple over me, no one would find me until spring. I’m. Not. Kidding.



There’s more snow coming in the next few days. Last night, when I saw the updated snow amounts, I yelled at the TV. I never do that.

Alex testing out the snowblower.

The kids love it. I mean, they’ve only gone to school three out of five days for the past three or four weeks. Who wouldn’t want to be at home during this weather? They don’t realize those days come with a price when the last day of school comes at the end of June. Ugh.

Fortunately, it’s the kids who save me. At some point, we get giddy at the possibility of snow days. In fact, we’ve come to expect it every Sunday night. Our days have been spent hanging with neighbors in walking distance. Ella has had some kind of a sore throat all week (not strep), so it’s just as well she’s not in school. Alex has too much energy for the both of us so we may just bury him in the snow.



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If you're a grown up, watching back-to-back episodes of your favorite show is binge watching. If you're a child, it's called too much time on your hands.

I’m so tired of deciding what to cook and then cooking it. I'm just a cranky, cranky person right now.

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Almost all of the recent poems I’ve written have snow in them. I really don't have any more room for the snow, even on paper.

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