Boss-sanctioned hooky

When the girls began school I was mystified by their enormous cubbies, (which would qualify as closets by San Francisco standards.) Now that they're stuffed with snow pants and coats and mittens and hats and slippers, I get it. We've got backup sets of backup sets of mittens, hats, scarves, you name it. And nothing's languishing for lack of use.

In addition to our coat closet at home and the cubbies at school, there's a giant bag in the garage full of ski gear. And that one's been calling my name.

On Tuesday, I could stand it no longer. The bright sun, relative warmth and recent opening of the ski hill make a trip up the mountain irresistible. I tried to ward it off and work, but I was so distracted. So I called my boss, got a pass, and headed up.


Here is my note to my colleagues:
From: Kristi Chester Vance <Kristi@forestethics.org>
Date: December 13, 2011 10:49:28 AM MST
To: "staff@forestethics.org" <staff@forestethics.org>
Subject: Taking the day off

Hi there. I'm taking a spontaneous day off.  I'll check my cell in the afternoon so call if you need anything. *Kristi

And here is what I got back in return:
Nikki  wrote: Good snow day?! Enjoy!!!
Todd: Have fun!
Karen: WHAAA!!? that's AWSOME, good for you!!
And my sweet colleague, Matt, wrote to make sure I was okay.

I've got a good gig.

It tooks 25 minutes from my garage to the (front-row) parking spot at the ski hill. Moments later, I was in the lift line, wiggling my toes, wobbling around and hoping for the best.

I took a couple of runs, sat in the sun and ate my sandwich, took another, and headed home.

It'd been a decade since I sat on a ski lift or swooshed down a hill — pre-babies, pre-marriage, pre-my-30's. The thrill was on, and better than ever.

My secret day.