A blanket covering my house, soft and shining white. Sounds of the ruffling of my blankets, and the feeling of my drooping eyes. The annoyance of waking up mixed with the hopeful reach for the phone and opening of the email app. The air was frozen and the morning quiet was peaceful—school was canceled.
The bed rattled as I plopped back down and went right back to sleep.
Eyes opening at noon, the feeling of a good night’s rest on my chest as I do my skincare routine and get ready for my morning. The smell of hot ginger tea with milk and sugar meeting my nose as I go right back to bed. The house is mostly silent except for the sound of my five-year-old brother’s steps and the music playing in my headphones.
Midday, I wake up naturally, happy to hear no alarm. I scroll on my phone for an hour, without forcing myself to get up. Putting my contacts in, I stay in bed for another 30 minutes before getting up and forgetting to make my bed as I head downstairs for waffles, tea, and biscuits. In the afternoon, I clean my room and spray the air with my favorite vanilla Bath and Body Works scent. Focusing on homework to give myself the rest of the night to relax, the sound of typing fills my room alongside the crunch of the sweet treat I indulge in; I spend the evening rotting as I watch Netflix rom-coms, read while lying on soft pillows, and find the perfect spot to lay down and rest.
I stare at the snow outside my window as I think of the first time I saw snow at four years old. I don’t remember it, but it’s a favorite story of mine, one I ask my parents to tell me repeatedly. Outside the airport after moving from my home country and used to the heat, I saw snow for the first time, playing in it while my parents watched from afar with my little brother. Growing up, it became a routine to hope for a snow day when the slightest snow fell. The snow day calculator was used every week in the winter.
It’s senior year, and every snow day could be my last snow day. The excitement of staying home might be ending, which scares and excites me. I go back to sleep with dread and denial that the next day I have to go back to school, but I brace myself for school again as I wake up the next morning. Annoyed as I wake up, but hopeful as I reach for my phone a second time. The air was frozen and the morning quiet was peaceful—school was canceled.
