Snow Day #4 - and I'm NOT Going In

My view on the way home yesterday. It's thicker now!!
I have decided NOT to go to work today because the world is covered with ice and it is not letting up. In my 23 years of living in these February climes, I've spent time in a ditch, I've slid into another car on an ice day (interestingly, NOT a snow day, but it should have been!), and I have only missed four inclement weather days total. One of those days was for a DMV appointment, so I had to take it! Today, however, I have erred on the side of caution and am taking my inclement weather time as it occurs rather than later on.

I can handle snow. I even enjoy driving in snow, but ice scares me. This part of the world is encased in snow, and I'm waiting for the sun to rise so I can see if there is any type of sparkle. That's the only good thing about ice - the way the world sparkles when it is covered with glitter.

I have already texted my administrators and my interns - just in case they don't see it on their phones, let me repeat - DO NOT GO IN TO WORK, INTERNS! - that I am not even going to try to leave today. All of the roads are rated as "completely covered" and my sidewalks outside my front window are also "completely covered." Not going to risk a fall.

...And now, the guilt starts up.

Now, in my rational brain, I know that my clients may miss me a bit, but I am not essential to their inclement weather survival. Music therapy sessions on these days give them something to do besides being in the classroom all day, but that's about it. There is absolutely no reason why I have to be at school on these types of days, but I like to go. I like being there and doing something a bit different from our regular routine, but I also value safety, so...


In the long range scheme of things, taking care of myself is paramount to my safety and my ability to be a music therapist. My clients don't really need "ME" (as in, the uniqueness of me) in order to survive this world. My role in their lives is not as essential as that of the person who takes care of their primary health needs or makes their food, but it can be important. Important, however, is not the same as crucial, and I am not crucial to their survival.

I like to think that I am. I like to think that my students will miss me and have a bad day because I decided to sit this one out, but I also know the reality of my clients. They will enjoy being able to use the materials that are in the sub plan drawer. They will take out all the chairs, forget to put things away, and basically have a good time without me. They will probably be a bit less enthusiastic about my return than I imagine, but that's also the way things happen with my clients. I think I am much more important that I actually am.

Okay. I do offer things to my clients that no one else does - a place for exploration, for expression, for creativity, for acknowledging the moment, and for interaction - but that does not mean that another music therapist wouldn't be able to provide them with the same types of experiences. I bring my own unique way of doing things to my job, but that doesn't mean that someone else, in my position, wouldn't be able to what I do and more things than I have even imagined.

Whew. This post is turning out to be less of a positive thing and more of a depressing thing. Here's the deal. I made a decision, and I am going to enjoy my day off.

This day is going to be a day for reading, watching Spanish television (with dubbing, so not as impressive as it sounds), and eating pecan pie. Tomorrow will be a day at work even if it is an inclement weather day. The roads should be a bit less treacherous by tomorrow - at least, the folks who go out on these days to salt, sand, or sugar beet the roads will have had more time to work on them. I will go in and either do my regular Friday routine, or I will run my snow day schedule. Today, though, is for being safe and doing what I need to do for me.

Happy snow day! 


Popular posts from this blog

Habit Tracker - Week Two - This Week Is More Challenging

I Get Ambitious, and My Body Lets Me Know What It Thinks About That...and a Bit on Impostor Syndrome

The Gift of an Extra Hour