I know that Oscar Wilde said that conversation about the weather is the last refuge of the unimaginative, but here in Your Nation's Capital, we are in the midst of a highly unimaginative conversation. It beats the more imaginative but also more depressing conversation about politics and the war.
We got a wee bit of snow, maybe 1/4 to 1/2 inch, but now freezing rain and ice have been forecast for the evening and night, into tomorrow morning. The seminary, which NEVER closes (when most of the students and all the faculty are right on campus, why close?) has shut down. I don't know if we will have classes in the morning since there may be a good inch of ice on the roads.
A seminary classmate mentioned at lunch how, on a gray day like today, she just wanted to go home and take a nap. I must be very suggestible, because I came home with grand intentions of getting a lot of reading done, and I promptly fell asleep on the couch with one of my books open in my hands. Serves me right putting my feet up on the couch while reading.
PH is seeing clients downtown, and will have a nasty 8-mile commute home later this evening. He's an excellent driver, but I still worry.
I hate driving in bad weather, especially on ice. I'm glad I'm home, with a nice warm laptop computer and fuzzy slippers on my feet, and a pot of chili on the stove.
It's been a good week at school. I did well on my scary Hebrew quiz yesterday, and I think I also did well on the infamous OT map quiz this morning. Several papers are coming due fairly quickly, I'm doing a presentation at my home church about the trip to Qatar in two weeks, I'm doing a presentation on icons as a spiritual practice at RM's place in three weeks, and there are not enough hours in the day. This weekend is Big Old Seminary's Conference on Ministry. I'm co-chairing the Off-Campus Housing Tours, hosting a dinner for some of our guests, and doing two acts in the Talent Show.
I should be exhausted. I AM in fact exhausted. Why, then, am I so darned happy?