I know that just because I only ever see the pharmacist counting pills, that her job is actually far more complex. I can count. That doesn't make me a pharmacist.
I know that air traffic controllers only seem to be passively watching dots on a screen. There is no way on this earth I would ever want that job. Air travel as we know it would cease to exist. No one would fly. It would be safer to just roll the planes around on the ground.
I often hear that teachers have really short working days. People think that the day starts when the kids sit down for the first class and ends when the last bell rings. I am, in fact, a teacher and I know this to be untrue. There's lots of vacation time, granted. But not the fabulous day to day schedule that people see on the surface of it all.
As a result of all this great insight, I know that the guy doing the weather every night is not just a big smile with the ability to "put the map in motion." The whole thing is a science and maybe a little bit of an art form. You don't just guess at the forecast. You study stuff and use big words. Meteorology is hard work. While everyone else is looking out the window for a clue, these fine men and women are casting their gazes further.
This did not stop me from calling everyone involved in the profession a liar at least fifty times over the past week or so. One minute, I'm told to batten the hatches for a big ol' storm. The next, I'm directed to stand down because it's not going to be a big deal. And then it's Monday and I'm clearing a foot of snow from my car.
Today, I was told to expect a few snow showers. These, as I recall, were the last few remnants from the big storm that came in spite of a forecast that kept changing and lying to me every few days. I should have learned something from that experience. I should have known better.
I was still surprised by the endless flakes falling from the sky. No, it wasn't the sort of thing that left piles of snow all over the place. However, it did make for a tricky ride home this afternoon and forced me to resort to that short work day that everyone thinks teachers have. Once the last kidlet was on a bus, I was out the door. I know that the meteorologists weren't lying to me.
It just felt like it...
I suppose that, in the spirit of honesty, I should admit to not finishing that mitten yesterday. I should further confess that it was the thumb. I hate knitting thumbs. I either think I know better and ignore the pattern notes at my peril or I go against my better judgement and do what the pattern says. Again with the peril.
Thumbs thwart me. Thumbs are as tricky as weather forecasts. You can use all the science in the world to figure them out, but they still sometimes end up doing something unexpected.
I feel better for being honest about it, though. I knit some thumb while I was riding the little exercise bike this afternoon. The minor snow showers that weren't supposed to be a big deal fell like mad outside while the thumb took ever more interesting turns and, somehow, the world seemed to be in balance.
I hear that the weather will be improving later in the week. And the thumb seems to be nearing completion.
Quite honestly, I trust neither of these eventualities.