To my roommate, I apologize.

People don’t think straight when it’s snowing.

I didn’t mean to channel Homer Simpson with giddy laughter and dancing in front of our tiny window. The white-cold blanket of frozen precipitation just went straight through me.

I didn’t mean to wake you up and tell you there were three inches of powdery joy on the ground.

Oh wait, I did.

Well, sorry I woke you — it was snowing.

Oh happy day when snow comes to the Hill. But, a few more apologies before I fall deeper into my blizzard of happiness.

To my history professor, I am sorry.

You looked cold walking up the steps of Cherry Hall yesterday morning. Snow dusted the tip of your driving cap and the shoulders of your overcoat.

There was no one in your room at 9:05 Wednesday morning. The chalk board collected no dust. The overhead projector took a break from sabotaging your lecture.

They should have told you earlier that classes were canceled.

Sorry if the university didn’t act so quick — it was snowing.

To those of you who wanted to go to class, I laugh at you (pause for insane, guttural laughter and childish jumping).

I have no words of solace.

To those who had car accidents while driving to campus, I cringe.

We are at a disadvantage of latitude — not far enough south for year-round drinks with tiny paper umbrellas, but just enough north to enjoy the occasional winter catastrophe.

Yet, it was your peril that gave the entire student body a chance to sled down College Street. Your sacrifice gave us all new life on a frigid Bowling Green hump-day.

Sorry if the day started out bad — it was snowing.

To the university — way to go.

I thought snow days were over (pause for frantic laughing and girlish dancing). I was wrong.

All we needed was a little picture of Big Red on the news colored in with tiny snow flakes to signify the cancellation of higher learning.

There are going to be people that disagree. Professors are paid to teach. Students pay to learn. I won’t lie, snow upsets as it pleasures.

But, the good out-weighs the ugly. We had our break yesterday. And we are all grateful. Hope you didn’t party too hardy. Exams won’t yield to the frigid games of Old Man Winter.

As for me, it might take a few days to come down off my snow powder high. Yesterday may have been as good for my psyche as it was bad for my health.

But, they wouldn’t make snow fluffy if we weren’t meant to roll around in.

What’s a little frostbite among winter’s greatest wonders?

J. Michael Moore is a sophomore print journalism and history major from Franklin, Tenn.