Snow Day

10 o'clock and pancake batter bubbles, grease fizzles softly while the aroma of coffee steams out of the machine. The wooden floors are warm from heat blowing through vents, but the breakfast plates are cold. Outside is blanketed in a thick fleece of snow. White fluff covers everything: sticks, stones, shovels, garbage cans, broken refrigerators, 1995 Chevy vans, roads, houses. I'm wearing a tank top and drinking french vanilla coffee. No obligations for one day. 24 hours of weekend bliss encapsulated between Tuesday and Thursday. Thank God for sweet, sweet lake-effect and giving us all a break.