Most people curse the weather man when it rains on their picnic unexpectedly or when he assures them that it's going to be a beautiful, sunny day and they wake up to snow and ice on the ground and a miserable morning rush hour or, worse, a ruined weekend. But they don't get upset when the predicted snow fails to arrive and they're greeted by bright sun instead. Indeed, then they're as gleeful as children who learn the dreaded math test has been canceled.
Not me.
I woke up expecting to spend my day inside, wrapped in a soft white cocoon of inclement weather and plans to clean my house, work on my blog, and work on some other writing. Instead, the bright sun beckons like a sultry lover with a seductive smile. You know you shouldn't succumb to him. That you should stay with your original plans even though they're as dull as the good, steady, cheerful and hardworking mate that you really love but whose sameness you know too well.
Instead of cleaning the grout and working on new links, now a bright, beautiful day crooks its finger and beckons me on. There are malls to visit, shops to see, Borders bookstore to meander through, and Starbucks to sit in for hours with a steaming cup of cappucino and a good book, while chores and obligations go neglected. Because a bright, beautiful day doesn't come along all the time, you know.
Maybe I'm just more susceptible than most people to temptation. But, also, maybe the snow and rain will come tomorrow and I can do the work at home then. But I don't know. Maybe tomorrow will be just as nice as today and I'll still want to go out and play. And maybe the commute that I so cleverly planned to miss today will be just as miserable on Monday.
Monday was supposed to be nice and sunny. Now, who knows? And that's the problem when weather men get it wrong. Isn't life uncertain enough?
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