Once every four years, a single day slides into the calendar normally partitioned into 365 equal parts: an extra, a gift. A blank white square. 24 precious hours.
Today is a work day for me; my desk is cluttered with papers and pencils and a half-eaten bar of chocolate, but I'm secretly hoping that somewhere, someone is being wildly irresponsible and celebrating this day with some dizzy, spontaneous fun.
Not checking email.
Splashing through puddles.
Giving a second kiss, and a third...
Eating an extra slice of pie. With ice cream on top.
Picking up the phone to hear the voice of a friend.
Booking a ticket for a vacation to someplace magical.
Happy February 29!
Here's to leaping.