Five Things I Hate about Snow Days

I don't mean to sound ungrateful.

Snow days are a major perk, and there are lots of reasons to love 'em: sleeping in, wearing pyjamas, staying cozy, and watching the flakes fall.

Yeah, yeah. Well, at about 3:00 in the afternoon on my second straight snow day, as I sidestepped the mountain of wet boots, gloves, and hats in the hallway, I thought of a few things about snow days that aren't so hot. And a list was born . . .

5 Things I Hate about Snow Days:

1. I become obsessed with The Sand Truck. If I hear anything vaguely resembling the rumbling of The Sand Truck (i.e., the dishwasher, my husband's surround-sound) I run to the front window, desperate for a sighting. I call my mom several times a day to check whether The Sand Truck has been to her house. If it has, I'm insanely jealous. If it reaches my house first, I'm sympathetic. And maybe a little smug.
2. I cook (and eat!) too much. Something about a snow day brings out the Rachel Ray in me. It's like I'm convinced my family will starve--in spite of the stocked fridge and pantry--if I don't make something in the slow cooker and bake muffins. All those good smells wafting from the kitchen make me extra-hungry. Diet? What diet?
3. There's no reason to do hair or makeup. And if I'm not doing those things, there's hardly a reason to get out of my baggy pyjamas and sweatshirt. I might as well be a slug all day. You may think this is no big deal, but I live with four people who beg to differ.
4. I'm forced to get creative with excuses for not cleaning. I'm not working, my husband has shoveled the driveway, and the the kids are out sledding. It really would be the perfect time to mop the kitchen floor or organize my bathroom cabinet. Uh-huh. I think you understand my dilemma.
5. Infomercials. It's getting bad. I seriously considered buying the Super Shami (the substitute for paper towels). I resisted, but then temptation reared its head again. The Snuggie (the blanket with sleeves) is utterly brilliant. I'm torn between the burgundy and sage green. What do you think?

So . . . when the alarm clock rings tomorrow, I'm going to be thankful it's not another snow day. However, by next week I might be ready for another. :)
Do you have a love/hate relationship with snow days? Are there any other "sold on TV" products I should check out?

The Hazards of Writing, or "Thank God for Advil"

Writing can be a pain in the butt. Literally.

There's a misconception that writers lounge around all day in their pyjamas and that they rarely leave their computers unless they need caffeine or chocolate.

Whoops. That's actually true. But it doesn't mean that writing is without its hazards. Consider my writing-related injuries/conditions over the past year:

• Muscle spasm below my right eye. This was so gross--a twitch just under my lash line that was as steady as a pulse and visible to anyone within a couple of feet of my face. It triggered constantly from the time I woke up in the morning till the time I went to sleep. For four weeks. It was enough to make me finally schedule a visit to my doctor. She claimed she'd never seen anything like it. "Are you straining your eyes?" she asked. Who me? It's not like I stare at my computer all day. I read for hours on end too. "How much caffeine do you drink?" Oh, I don't drink caffeine. Just mocha lattes and sweet tea. "Do you have a lot of stress?" Not really, but my heroine does. Do you have any idea how hard it is being a destitute companion in Regency England? "Are you getting enough sleep?" Sleep? . . . ha-ha-ha! She prescribed a muscle relaxant that knocked me out for 14 hours and when I woke up . . . wah-lah. No more creepy twitching.
• Backache. Not the "Ooh, I think I overdid it at Pilates yesterday" kind of backache. I'm talking about the kind of pain that made me walk like Yoda. Only slower. Over Christmas break I was spending more time than usual in my chair, and one day when I got up (only because someone had the nerve to ask about dinner) I found I couldn't straighten my spine. This nonsense lasted about a week. While it didn't keep me in bed all day (drat!) it was rather inconvenient. When I splattered spaghetti sauce on the kitchen floor while cooking dinner, I had to carefully avoid stepping in it until someone more flexible than I came to clean it up.
• Pink eye. This too, had the major ew factor. Brought on, once again, by too much computer time and too little pillow time, the whites of my eyes turned completely bloodshot. Not only did this scare small children, but it felt like my eyelids were made of sandpaper.

Did I ever once consider taking a break from writing? Of course not. Professional athletes play through the pain, and writers write through it. And I take lots of Advil.

So, what are your writing and/or computer related ailments? Am I the only one who doesn't know the meaning of moderation?