Yesterday’s opening salvo warned me it was going to be one of those days. In the spirit of self-care and celebrating me on Valentine’s Day, I searched for inspiration. It arrived as an email from Starbucks offering me 50% off my Starbucks® delivery order on Uber Eats, up to $10. Perfect. I settled on the Coffee Traveler filled with 96 fluid ounces of Blonde Roast and a Bacon, Gouda, and Egg Sandwich. Yes, I am the only coffee drinker in the house, but 96 oz would have been a welcome refresher. Except, the SENDLOVE coupon code didn’t work. I tried everything, but @Starbucks doesn’t love me. I canceled the order, brewed my usual everyday coffee, and headed out to shovel snow.

Our daytime high of 3 degrees, a -20 wind chill, and a forecast of 8-12 beginning Sunday evening, it was now or never. Time to eliminate the 3-4 inches on the drive and start and defrost the icy automobile. Everything was running smoothly. My fingers grew numb from the bitter conditions, and I wrangled on my second set of gloves. Too bad I didn’t remember to wear another pair of pants. But a few minutes sitting in the car warmed me enough to attempt finishing the last portion of the job.

That’s when it happened. For the record, I am a frequent faller professional. Please do not intentionally try this at home or anywhere else. My warm foot struck a patch of ice hidden under the snow. Both feet sailed behind me, and instinct flung the shovel down the driveway far from self-harm’s way. I assumed the skydiving banana position, head up, chin up, arms outstretched, and my feet – well, they were already flying in the air. And relax. Bam. My body hit rock-solid frozen cement, cushioned by an oh so soft and downy bed of snow and the bulky woolen coat. It’s a move I call the Reverse Snow Angel.

I lay motionless. My face hovered centimeters above the layered snow, as did my hands. I inhaled, followed by an exhale. A mental examination revealed my right knee had kissed the pavement. Whether because of the cold or maybe something likely to result in a bruise, the stinging sensation would need time to access. Like Sandra Bullock in “Miss Congeniality” with her “Mustang Sally” high heels and her slinky blue dress, I rose and shook it off. “I’m fine. I’m cool. I’m good.” I waved to my neighbors and took a bow. Wait. What do you mean the cameras weren’t rolling? Take two? Where is my stunt double? Instead, I finished shoveling.

Inside, re-acclimating to the warmth, I decided I had earned a glass of wine. A 2010 Castello Di Bossi Berardo Chianti Classico Riserva made my cut. I cleaned a goblet, and as I prepared to extract the cork, it snapped in half in the bottle’s neck. Not to worry, I’ve trained for this too.

How do you celebrate challenging days?

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Keep on writing.

Jo Hawk The Writer