Hurricane Sandy, the “Frankenstorm” that everyone anticipated for two weeks, has now made her mark on the East Coast. The winds have died down, the rain has halted to a slender mist, and clean up has begun. Schools have been closed for the past two days and that has left me with mixed emotions.
Sandy was the weekend I never have; two days of freedom, absolute freedom. I slept in, I did what I have been meaning to do, but never have time for. I lied around the house in pajamas without a schedule, I played a board game, I caught up on blog posts; I was stress free. For me, most weekends are always “wake up at this time, be there by then, then I have to go there, then I have to to all of that homework…” Sandy was different, and I am so thankful for that.
However, two peaceful days of no school can only mean one thing; they will be made up at a later date. Vacation days will be taken away. Usually I always have something to work ahead on, but since the marking period ended on Friday, all work was already due. The vacation days that will be taken away may be days that would have been nice to use to catch up on projects, papers, and school work in general when caught up in the midst of a stressful marking period.
Sandy also taught me how much I use electricity in my daily life. I lost power after dinner on Monday night and did not get it back until noon on Tuesday. Although that period of time was not nearly as long as it could have been, it still felt like a long time. I would not consider myself addicted to my phone or computer, but you don’t realize how often you think “oh, let me google that.” It took me about an hour before I stopped switching light switches when walking into dark rooms. For breakfast, it was hard to think of something to eat that did not require reaching in the fridge that the generator was working hard at keeping cool. We too often take for granted the shelter we live in. Without the walls of our homes, the hurricane would have seemed much worse. From inside, you simply see the rain and wind, but don’t feel in first hand.
Thank you, Hurricane Sandy.