Yesterday was Black Friday, traditionally the universal--like in the whole universe--biggest shopping day of the year. I never go shopping on that day. Don't like crowds and especially don't need to see those sometimes snarling, scowling spreaders of their own brand of Christmas cheer.
You know, the whole bit. I just don't like it, so I don't go.
Now I can't say that. I went yesterday. But only briefly. I got what I wanted, none of it, unfortunately, subject to "tremendous mark downs," and scooted home.
I didn't go at 5 a.m. or even 9. And I was gone about an hour, including travel time.
Like you care.
I went because today, I figured, was going to be White Saturday, and I wouldn't want to go out worse than I didn't want to go yesterday. I was right about the white part. Snow everywhere and snowing. I'm glad my house guests, Sarah and Darron, left yesterday morning and got home before the storm.
But on a day like today, I find reasons to go out. Funny, huh. None compelling enough to make me actually go. Because it's snowing. It's winter, although not officially for another 25 days, and a person ought to stay home by the fire, so to speak, and read and nap and contemplate her blessings. So I will do just that.
As I look out, though, I have to wonder if the rest of the year will be like this. It could, you know. And a person could grow weary of staying in. A person would have to go out or . . . or what? I don't know. Go nuts?
Come on, Carol. It hasn't even been one day yet.
And surely we'll see the sun again and snow will melt and we'll venture away from the house again before the year's end.
Surely. This is Boise, after all.
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