Grumpy. . . grumpy. . . grumpy

It snowed! For many of you that may not be a big deal, but to those of us that have been experiencing 50+ degree weather in January, it's a blessing. It's been as if we have had an extended autumn, missing winter all together. No need to wear warm sweaters. Hot chocolate was wasted on warm days such as these. No excuse to wear my handy-dandy Voodoo wrist warmers.

This is my favorite kind of snow: the kind that covers everything in a billowy blanket, but doesn't stick to the roads. (Secretly my favorite kind of snow is the type that shuts everything down.)

Last night I had to tackle some of our chores that had been mounting up, but I still managed to peek out the window every chance I got to watch the big flakes hit the ground.

When I woke up this morning I had hoped that it wasn't true, that I wasn't 36 and had to go to work, but instead a 11 and school had been cancelled. . . that I could spend the day at home, in my pajamas, watching television, eating cinnamon toast and fighting with my brothers.

I am grumpy today and I wish I could kick it. My lower back has been hurting and that means I haven't been able to get a good night's sleep. I have so many projects mounting up that I can't decide which one to tackle first. I had wanted down time last night to knit and read, but instead did laundry, vacuuming and sundry chores. And then there's the same old stuff: family issues, wishing Cynical didn't work so much, wishing my grandmother was comfortable and able to rest, wishing I could shed 30 pounds, wishing that my family and friends lived closer, wishing there was some alternative to getting up each morning and leaving for work.

My grandmother, who passed in 1988, had a saying about such longing: "Wish in one hand and pee (not her term) in the other and see which one gets full the fastest." Crude, probably, but appropriate.