This is a photo of DC’s first snow from my apartment window in Friendship Heights.
Today, snow has amounted to almost two feet, many frustrated travelers and no above-ground public transportation. Indiana will see a white Christmas too, but not nearly as much as Washington has faced within the past few days.
I always love coming home for Christmas, and not just for the snow.
For the marathons of cheezy family movies and romantic comedies. For wrapping presents I already know I’m getting (and everyone else knows their getting). For catching up with friends I haven’t seen all semester. For waking up to my mom running the vacuum right outside of my room at noon. For shopping for the first time in months and cleaning out bits and pieces of my past.
To giant tubs of caramel popcorn, my mom’s blueberry glaze cheesecake and listening to Christmas music on the radio 24 hours a day. It’s a much needed moment to breathe, and yet I find myself thinking I’m wasting precious time left before the “real world” hits.
Never again will I have four weeks of vacation in a row with no consequences or expectations. Unless I find myself jobless, in which case it wouldn’t feel much like a break.
I made a list, as I always do, of things I hope to achieve and people I hope to reconnect with. It doesn’t seem to work when I leave things to chance.
I’ve gotta get cracking on my Farsi and my Iran-related readings. I’ve got to get my Mac working so little technical problems don’t get in the way of working next semester. I’ve got to BLOG MORE, WRITE MORE, CREATE MORE, AND KEEP WRITING.
I wrote a 100 page memoir last year. I had so much to say, and still do. For some reason it’s harder to do it now. Gotta break that habit.