Although it's been established that I am a Doctor Who fangirl, that's not the kind of timelessness about which I speak. It the timelessness that comes from a snow day in a place where it doesn't happen all that often.
Seattlish is one of those places.
We generally get one or two a year, and today doesn't even count because it's Martin Luther King Jr. Day and the schools are closed anyway (that link may black out a couple days from now, for 24 hours, to protest SOPA. Just so you know). But there's about three inches of snow up here in the Convergence Zone, and it's started snowing again, and the kids are bundled up, and there's slush that they've tracked up the stairs by the front door, and damp mittens all over the place, and the lining of Abby's boots has turned her toes a lovely shade of indigo, and Lizzy's thrilled about being allowed to play "outside with the big kids" (I only have to open the door to hear them; they are required to stay close when they have Lil' Liz with them), and the cat is not sitting under the dining table as usual; she's curled up by the heater vent.
And this, plus our lack of "Regular TV", and my joblessness, and the fact that I'm getting all my news from Google Plus and Yahoo News and SchoolReport.org lends a feeling of being separated from the normal march of time. I'm doing my usual daily routine - job hunting (slow on a holiday), laundry (rather more socks and gloves than usual), dishes, school - but it just seems different somehow. As though the snow was blanketing time as well as the trees and the streets, insulating me from it.
It's kind of nice, really. In a timey-wimey sort of way.
ETA: And our school district has notified us that school is closed tomorrow. They notified before the day in question, and on a Federal holiday. This is gonna be a big one, I think.