But today, I will, a little.
I woke up this morning in my bedroom, blinds down. Took a shower in my windowless bathroom. Got dressed in my bedroom, blinds still down, naturally.
And then I went to the kitchen to make myself some chai and oatmeal for breakfast, and I looked out at my back deck from the window over the kitchen sink.
And there was snow.
Not snow like the few little pelting iceballs of my walk to lunch the other day, which made their presence felt but did not amount to anything.
And not giant flakes that stay on your nose and eyelashes, but still, real, White-Christmas-type snow. Real snow that was already sticking to the ground pretty good at 7:30 this morning.
Now, there are some complications with all that for me: My car is broken, so I am walking a mile or two to work, and I do not own snow boots, as I have not really needed them for about 8 years.
But I was smiley, grinny, jump-on-the-bed happy. And I still was, when I got to work, covered in snow that melted all over everything. I will also say that I would much rather walk the streets of my little northern town than Arlington, VA, in a snowstorm, both because the streets are less busy and because people here experience enough snow that they know how to drive in it. I was the first one in to work, because everyone else had a slow, slow commute, but no one here is complaining about accidents or about the maniacs on the road.
It is your job to remind me how fun this was in March, when there is even more snow and it's dirty and slushy and I can't stand it for one more second because WTF WILL WINTER NEVER END?!?!. But when I wrote this at 10 this morning, I was watching that white stuff still falling, and I was still grinny.
In a slightly more look-how-citified-I-am story from this morning, I had a friend spending the night at my house last night. And after I left, she realized she'd left a Nalgene bottle in my car, back when my car was still working. So at 10 this morning, I had this text message: "Who locks their broken car inside their own garage?"
My text back: "A city mouse who is unused to her own garage and her broken car."
Seriously, I have my own garage? Really? Guess so.
Who's got a better word for "citified"?