Psychology of the Snow Day

I got like 600 text messages from Not-NYU telling me that school is cancelled today because of the snow. That's lovely, but of course I don't teach on Mondays, so it has little actual effect on my life. (The snow is, however, likely to make me less excited about slogging to the gym, which also might be having a snow day.) Nevertheless, knowing it's a snow day is making it much harder to get work done; I feel like I should be able to curl up on the couch and watch movies--even though it's not a snow day for, say, turning in one's MLA abstract or grading papers. Augh.

I'm thinking of two other March blizzards. One was my first Spring Break in New York, when the cheap platform boots I bought at the Joyce Leslie on University Place basically split in half. It was also the Spring Break when my then-boyfriend showed up for the St Patrick's Day parade having Bic-ed his head. I had recently received The Worst Haircut of My Life at Astor Place (as one does while a freshman at NYU)--we made a fantastic couple. The St Patrick's Day parade I remember as involving beers hidden in winter hats, long lines for the bathroom at Sbarro, and high school kids from Long Island puking on the side streets. I have not attended since.

The other March blizzard was two years ago, the day of the new student recruitment event, which is sort of a perpetually weird day. (I just found out I'll be in Charlotte for this year's and I'm not sorry.) Before that I was at West Village Coffeeshop with The Professor and ran into someone from my very deep New York past--the archetype for a lot of things that happened to me since college and the sometime hero, sometime villain, sometime addressee of much of my LiveJournal posts circa 2001. It was awkward and came out of nowhere and we smoked a cigarette on the steps of West Village Coffeeshop and then The Professor decided that he needed to leave, so I ended up talking to this guy for awhile and then going to school and a lot of this is a blur. This may be why the snow day has left me somewhat unsettled, needing to focus and finish this abstract, make a decent effort to finish the fellowship application, and grade the rest of the somewhat dismal first set of papers from my class.

Well, that and the fact that I ended up on a bat call with L last night, found out about something The Poet did that I found somewhat less than amusing, came home at 1:30, made popcorn and sent D. a kind of gooshy drunk email, and then went to sleep and had a dream about my latest Facebook friend. Good lord.

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