I shuffle over to the window Sunday morning, drunk with sleep and residual alcohol from the night before.
"Oh shoot," I say to Danny. The morning sun is glaring in, I can already feel the warmth against the window. "It's terrible out there, a storm is coming. Best not to even look." I pull the curtain back down and climb back into bed, reappropriate myself for sleep.
When we wake up hours later, we declare it Official Movie Day. Which is really the only reasonable thing to do on a day like today. Danny dutifully walks around the house closing all of the window shades. "It's really coming down. Should we make some coffee and wait it out?" I can hear the kids next door shrieking as they run through the sprinkler on their lawn.
We settle on the couch where the midafternoon heat finds us in a heap of blankets and halfway through the second season of Girls. By now we're hungry. After deciding that these are no conditions to be heading outdoors in search of food, Danny volunteers himself as head chef. This is a talent of his, making a meal out of nothing. We eat pesto pasta with a side of peanut butter cheerios in our sweatpants. We drink tea. We talk about the weather, I wonder if work will be canceled tomorrow?
Because sometimes, in the midst of an Indian summer, it just really needs to be winter.