Forecast

I've become conflicted about this "snow day" stuff. You see, as a former child, I understand quite well the thrill of the snow day, and believe me, I still share in that excitement. We've had at least one snow day every week this year so far — if I were still eight years old? I would have thought this was the best year ever. He loves going to school, but the snow day is like an unexpected (well, mostly unexpected) gift.

As a parent, though, I don't seem to get too much done these days while my eight-year-old is home. Not that he isn't able to entertain himself, but his interests have become more and more ambitious with age, and often involve taking an old toy apart, either to fix it or just to see how it works (or worked). So I get called in for frequent consultations. It hampers my productivity, which, in turn, kinda nags at my conscience.

Tomorrow could go either way. There's lots of snow expected — but it's expected to end by daybreak, which should allow plenty of time for the roads to be cleared. But then, we had an unexpected few inches yesterday morning, and then an unexpected few more during the day today, so who knows?

Faded

Why is it that so many of the books I've worked on are by middle-aged men, writing about their unlikely friendships — or unhealthy relationships, depending on how you want to look at it — with elderly women, forgotten actresses from the Hollywood of the 1930s and 40s who worked steadily, back in the day, but never found enough fame to be remembered?

Drift Off

Somehow, we've experienced about three months worth of snow days over just the past two weeks.

Bureaucracy

I am the sort of person who enjoys poking holes in a bureaucracy -- mostly because it amuses me, but hey, if there's some way I can put it to my advantage, all the better. Give me the opportunity to find the weak link in a chain of responsibility, and I will exploit that as much as possible. (It's just the way I am.)

I have a tendency to rebel against authority (that gets me into trouble from time to time, but it's served me well, mostly), and if there's one authority I find anything but, well, authoritative, it's bureaucratic authority. Pencil-pushers, file-filers, form-filler-outers — I have no use for them.

I've been quietly mired in both authority and bureaucracy (in more or less equal proportion) for almost the past two years. I've been able to take advantage of the bureaucracy and evade the authority, thank goodness, mostly losing myself in the shuffle of personnel over the past year or so. I like it here, peaceful and quiet, hiding beneath a deflated balloon.

Dangerous

I'm not exactly sure what this is, but my eight-year-old built it on the floor of my office, and I'm afraid to move it because it looks dangerous.

Adventures Into The Unknown

Tomorrow

I'm content not to make too much of the change from one year to the next — each day seems more or less like the next (or the last), no matter where we choose to place it on the calendar. (I'm the same way about my birthday.) But I think I'll be glad to let 2010 pass into the past with good riddance.

It has not been a good year. Then again, it hasn't been a bad year, either. It could certainly have turned out worse, and I've had years where worse (much worse) things have happened (I'm constantly reminded of others' bad fortunes that we've managed to escape), but it's been difficult to shake the increasing sense of uncertainty during the past year. That's what's worn me down — that, and a sense that no matter how hard I've worked over this year, I don't seem to have accomplished anything to ease that uncertainty.

So this time, just once, I'm happy to use the end of a year as a way to close out the books, and open a new ledger. Not with a sense that anything is going to be different (certainly not in the short term), just to try to leave some of it behind.