Last night, it actually snowed. Not the seldom pathetic little snow flake that melts even before it reaches the ground, but the other, seldom-er kind. So that five minutes of heaven’s dandruff, incalculable sighs of delight and wonder, and a serious case of verbal diarrhea later, the cars, the houses – even the cats outside, looked like cakes sprinkled with confectionery sugar. Delicious, comforting, and not-at-all-healthy.
Just what everybody needs after a season (or three) of too much gluttony and too little aerobic merriment.
That night was doubly memorable because that was THE night when I realised that I have got to be studying more than I did a year ago, if I want to have a perma-smile cemented on my face after I open THAT envelope in August. And that was what I did. I studied Chemistry. For an hour. Groundbreaking.
For a moment, as I peeled my face off the dog-eared chem book, and I myself looking like a dog, I thought that perhaps the Old Man (or Woman) up there sent the snow to mark this landmark moment in my educational life. But with the war in Gaza going on (btw, as I write this, a ceasefire has been called apparently), He/She has His/Her hands full. So maybe not.
Or maybe it was sent to delay my dad on his way to work, having to chuck water on his car so that he would not be driving with a blindfold on (water = H2O… see, that hour of studying chem did pay off afterall). But anyway, it did come and I did study.
So if sometime in the distant future snow starts to fall – heavily – you would know what I was doing. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.