A Snowed-in Weekend

The snow is still coming down and now it's blowing, too. Swirling and floating, coating my windows so that I can barely see what's going on beyond the walls of my house. And honestly? I'm loving it. I'm listening to NPR's Saturday morning programming, drinking coffee spiked with a hot chocolate packet, still in my flannel pajamas.

I don't know if it's the snow falling or the fact that I've got no reason to leave my house (and couldn't even if I wanted to, at this point), but I'm feeling energized and creative. That happens a lot when I know I have essentially unlimited time to write. I get this feeling of electricity running through my body. I'm alert, focused, inspired. I suppose this is how I know writing is what I'm meant to be doing. Writing feeds my soul, makes me feel alive and connected to something bigger than myself.

So while the snow piles up outside, instead of worrying about how long I'll be stuck in my house with no one but my cat and the radio hosts to talk to, I'm grateful for the time alone to create and explore ideas that have been floating around in my mind for weeks without any outlet. I wouldn't be surprised if, come Monday, my wrists are sore and the keys on my keyboard are worn a bit more. In fact, if that's the case, I'll know it was a weekend well spent.