Usually, I am the kind of person who is positively GIDDY about snow. Nothing can make me so deliriously happy so quickly as looking out the window to behold thick, white flakes.
However, today, I am rather irked by the snow, to put it gently. I am supposed to go home for Thanksgiving; I need to go home for Thanksgiving, for my own sanity. Mother Nature has other plans, though. She decided that now would be a good time to release all that frozen goodness she has been hoarding all season.
I have been bombarded with texts, emails, warnings from professors, and Facebook statuses all saying something along these lines: The National Weather Service is warning of a winter storm today that “will far surpass anything that we’ve seen, probably for the last several years.” The combination of snow, extreme cold, and possibly damaging winds will make travel extremely hazardous. The storm will begin in the north and move south, hitting Salt Lake City later this afternoon. Please watch the weather reports and be prudent in your travels.”
Even papa, the family member with the least caution, is questioning whether or not my sister and I should come.
I don’t want to be prudent.
I don’t want to be safe.
I don’t want to be careful.
I just want to go home.
I am willing to risk life and limb to do it. Someone please tell me that’s okay.