Normal

Barring a freak storm (like the Flipper Boy and the Bearded Woman falling from the sky) the world starts again tomorrow and although it’s going to cut into my afternoon nap time, I’m ready to be back in the classroom opening impressionable as opposed to climbing the walls of my living room popping the tops off wine bottles.

It’s not like the unexpected week off wasn’t a treat, but it did make me realize that in order to really relish one’s freedom, a person has got to be prepared for it. Too much liberty, especially when it’s unplanned ends up making a fellow feel more unemployed than unencumbered and contributes to something more like anomie than enjoyment.

But maybe this is more a matter of being bored than it is being conscientious; it’s not exactly like weather and road conditions have lent themselves to a serious of thrilling outdoor adventures over the last five days. I have, of course, gotten into a good dose of family time and Edith Wharton’s The Reef has carried me through a number of relatively down hours, but even if the new day means I’ve got to rise before down in order to get a full primary series practice in, I’ll take it.

Now, no doubt I’d feel differently had the Steelers still been in the Superbowl hunt; I’m sure I could have designed the last fortnight around this morning’s AFC Championship game. As it was, however, watching was merely an intellectual exercise as opposed to a full-on emotional roller coaster.

I’m glad I’m not a Baltimore Ravens fan, in any case; had I been when their kicker, Billy Cundiff, muffed an easy cheap-shot that would have sent the contest into overtime, I’d had to have starting drinking so heavily and with such reckless abandon in order to drown my sorrows that I’m sure I would have needed another couple of snow days--if not another whole snow week--to recover.