Monday morning I lay in bed willing the clock to pause.

I tucked my toes under my husband’s leg and my nose into his shoulder. Maybe I could hide from the day. I felt heavy — the type of heavy you know well, too. It is the heaviness on the soul as you realize the holidays are over and nothing but cloudy, white days lie ahead.

Cloudy is good, I reminded myself. Clouds trap heat and give us warmer days. Bright, sunny days are cold. The paradox of winter warmth.

I rolled over as the screeching alarm sounded.

Cracking one eye open I confirmed that it was still white outside my window, and cloudy. Not a speck of blue to be seen.

Slowly the house woke up around me. The dogs stretched. The kids brushed their teeth. I rolled onto my stomach, burrowing my face into my pillow.

Every pore of my body was apathetic about and even opposed to getting up and going. Why bother when this white, cloudy day will bleed into the next white, cloudy day?

I imagined rich green grass, the smell of dirt and the warm sun on my face. I tried to pretend I laid on the lawn. I dreamed of Vitamin D soaking into my skin.

Opening my eyes, I found the light shining through my lids to be from the ceiling light and not the sun. I laid between grey flannel sheets.

Sitting up, I took a Vitamin D tablet with my morning water.

“Take the day off and go,” said my husband when I told him my dream of grass and sun.

“Where would I go in a day?” If I drove to Ely or the North Shore, it would still be white and cloudy.

We imagined flying away for a week, bickering over Alaska belonging or not belonging in the continental United States.

“The United States is connected to Canada which is connected to Alaska,” he tried to explain. “We are on the same continent.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I retorted. “It is winter there, too!” At least he got a smile out of me, granted it was with an eye roll.

As I left the house, the winter wind of reality hit me in the face. Take a vacation? We aren’t rich people. How would we take a vacation? What is a vacation?

A vacation means going to a family member’s house. Options: North Dakota, Wisconsin, Illinois, South Dakota, Colorado, Arizona or Texas. Internationally, we have Germany, Ireland or Italy. How did warm places get so far away?

But what if we did take one? Where would we go? Where do snowbirds go in the worst of the season? Florida. Do we know anyone in Florida?

I daydreamed of deserts and beaches as the Vitamin D lamp hummed and shone on my face. My husband and I could escape to a resort — just the two of us. I don’t even want to do anything adventurous like snorkeling. I just want to sit in one spot.

Like a robot, I imagine plugging into a wall while I unplug and recharge.

Admittedly, I feel guilty even thinking about leaving. We can’t go on vacation.

Looking out the window, I watch the large flakes fall.

Falling snow is peaceful and beautiful even in the dark drudergies of winter.

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