Yet another episode of “It’s Hell Being an Ethicist…

It’s a snow day in the D.C. area. Most stores are closed, and most workers are taking the day off. For families with young kids it’s unavoidable: schools around here close with even a prediction of snow. For someone born and bred in New England, this phobia over the white stuff seems especially ludicrous; there are maybe five inches on the ground right now, and in Boston, that would not even slow traffic down, much less close schools. It took at least a two or three feet of snow to close the schools when I was a nubbin.

Still, the old memories are bright. A snow day was always marked by a nice fire in the fireplace, hot cocoa, playing board games with my sister and, of course, dressing warm and going sledding. Today is a snow day. But I have a home office and no excuse not to work—even though I worked all weekend, even though everything in my mind and body is saying, “Take it easy! This is one of life’s special joys! It’s a respite from responsibility! Give yourself a break—heck, everybody else is doing it!“

Ah, but that last part, the Golden Rationalization, is like a splash ice water in the puss. I see the chart of “The Six Pillars of Character” on the wall, and “diligence” is staring at me. So is “responsibility,” and “prudence.” I’m behind in so many things, and there is so much I need to finish, then more still after I finish that. Snow days are about being carefree and having fun. I can’t remember the last time I had fun.

I want a snow day; I deserve a snow day. A snow day would be good for me.

But I’m an ethicist, and I have to be consistent: “Integrity ” is staring at me now. I have to work. No snow day for me.

Fuck.