Back during elementary school (and even until high school), snow was the greatest thing to happen, especially if you didn't realize it was supposed to snow when you went to bed the night before. You'd just wake up the next morning at the usual time, open the curtains, and see nothing but perfect, untouched, white. You might run into the living room to watch the morning news, but deep down you would know it's going to be a snow day.

That same vibe came to me this morning when I woke up and the sun was reflecting off of the white ground of the Dobson courtyard. I didn't even need to turn on a light this morning, it was so brilliant through my window. And my inner child thought, better check the school closings, even though Truman has only closed for snow two, maybe three, times in its entire history. Today didn't increase that number (though I didn't expect it to do so; we only got about six inches tops), although that meant I didn't spend the day sleeping and ignoring homework.

Since I had to actually get up and walk to class, I got to experience the quiet walk to breakfast while no one else was up. I suppose they all wanted to spend as much time under their warm blankets as possible, but I was happy to walk through the flurries and street slush. I could listen to the snow crunch under my size-6 shoes while the wind blew powdery snow into my hair and scarf. I could hear the snow actually hit my coat, a sound I'd never heard before because there's generally so many people around. This morning it was just me in my own personal snow globe.

It was almost as good as a snow day.