Day 3 of My Confinement

I have not left my house - not even stepped foot outside - for the past 65 hours.  There's a good chance I won't get out until tomorrow morning, which would bring the total to 86 hours in my house.

I know that might not seem like a lot at first glance, but think about it for a second.  SIXTY-FIVE HOURS.  If you stay home for a full day and do nothing, maybe you spend twelve hours sitting around?  And, if you're anything like me, by the end of that you're going stir crazy because you're bad at sitting around and you want to do something.

Well, I've been doing that for SIXTY-FIVE hours.

Kalamazoo is experiencing a record-shattering blizzard, so we've had school called off for the past few days.  Church was cancelled on Sunday.  I haven't been able to leave.  The wind-chill outside has been in the -30's.  It's not that I don't like my house...I do...but I'm getting a bit sick of it.  I've reorgazined cupboards that don't need reorganizing.  I've cooked more food than Rex and I can eat.  I've sat in our rocking chair reading random children's books while slowly rocking my sanity away.

I never thought I would say this, but I really hope we don't have another snow day tomorrow.  This storm has got to stop.  I've got to get out of here.  I have no clue how Anne Frank did this for two years.  I mean, not to minimize her situation - I've spent three days cooped up because of a blizzard and she spent two years hiding from murderous Nazis, but still.  She stayed in their little three-room apartment for two years and never left?!  How did she not go insane??  I guess by writing that fabulous diary of hers.  Maybe I should start a diary.  I've started to think of my confinement in terms of a prison sentence: "When I finally get out of here..."  Actually, that complete thought was, "When I finally get out of here...I am so going to get some pie."  I don't really know why that was my first thought...it just sounds yummy.  A new Grand Traverse Pie company just opened up down the road, and I think that would be a good way to celebrate my freedom.  What will really end up happening, though, is that my first act of freedom will probably be to go to work tomorrow morning.  I don't think I will have ever been so happy to get to work, though.  I'll probably have horrific flashbacks of snowdrifts trapping me inside my house.

Welllllp...  it's 10:48 AM, and I've already blogged twice.  What did Anne do when she wasn't writing in her diary?  I guess she crushed on that Peter guy and fought with her mom.  I can't do that because I'm alone.  Hmmm...  I'll have to think of something else.  Perhaps I'll write a post-mortem sympathy letter to Anne.  That must have been really horrible.  I guess maybe I don't have it so bad after all.