Decompression

The first major excitement of the day was M’s email: “HOUSE NEWS–CALL ME ASAP.” The news? Our offer was accepted without countering.

The second major excitement was that at 10:30 this morning the principal came on the PA system with a delighted twinkle in his voice: “May I have everyone’s attention, please,” he said, paused, and then said it again. “May I have everyone’s attention please. I have An Announcement. We will have an early release today at 12:15 today due to the snow,” the principal said.

The brilliant flurries that had started accumulating outside had not gone unnoticed by anyone, apparently the superintendent notwithstanding.

At the next class change, I tracked down one of my carpool buddies. “Hey,” I said. “Two things: I learned this morning that our offer on that property we really really want has been accepted. And can you give me a ride home? I’m afraid of hitting slick spots, on my bike.”

I was sad, really, about not getting to ride my new bike home–it’d get lonely all by itself in its day closet, and some other day I’d end up having to hitch a ride in to school and then bike home, which is fine except it doesn’t feel nearly as good to ride just half the commute instead of the whole 26.4 miles.

“Didn’t you listen to the weather forecast this morning?” another teacher asked when I bemoaned not getting to finish my ride.

“Yes,” I said, “but they said precipitation was just a 60% chance–and concrete trucks go out up to 70%.”

But soon enough the snow stopped, and by the time the buses had left, the sun was even shining–and the temperature was comfortably above freezing. I ended up riding home and enjoying most of the ride, my new fenders keeping the melting snow down where it belongs and my new gearing and lightness making everything seem so much easier.

It was a pretty sweet deal, really, getting away from work early. It meant I could ride in the nice mid-day light and then have an early afternoon snack of M’s fresh bread and hot chocolate. It also meant I could make a number of new-house-related phone calls (except that the bank was closed for the holiday), reschedule our purchase agreement signing appointment for earlier in the afternoon, and banish my pensive anxiety that our offer would be disregarded, we’d be ditched, and that house would go to someone else.

My mind is spinning, now, with house to-do to-do, but I’m breathing much easier. Maybe I’ll take over the futon to further decompress.