Snow Day

When I got up this morning to go into the office, I saw that a winter storm was moving into the area. I peered outside. It looked dry and calm. Fang was watching the weather report and inquired why on earth I was going out to Connecticut with storm conditions predicted. I just had to--there were still mountains of files that had to be purged. And I knew that when I returned to work officially on Friday that the regular work routine would kick in and I'd never get the office packed up. The company is moving to Norwalk in eight days and there's still so much to do. Besides, meteorologists are notorious for overstating weather conditions.

I hit the road. The traffic was light, the roads clear. It wasn't until I exited the freeway that the first few flakes came wafting down. I went into the office (which was practically deserted), plunked a Kanye West CD into my player and started purging. Within the hour, the snow swirled all around my windows. Who knew? A storm was indeed afoot.

I continued working. The snow began piling up. It was so damned pretty to look at from the comfort of my office, but I knew it would be a bitch to navigate when I finally left the office. I weighed my priorities: leave now or wait it out? I still had ruthless purging to do, so I decided to wait it out.

Three hours later, there was six, seven inches on the ground. I could see through the bare branches on the trees surrounding the office that the roads in Darien had not been plowed and traffic was moving at geriatric speed on I-95. I concluded that maybe it was time to go.

Now I grew up in California so driving in winter conditions is not part of my natural biology. After eight years of habitation in the northeast, I think I've become savvy about dressing in layers, adapting appropriate footwear for hazardous walkways and knowing how to navigate treacherous roads with a 2WD vehicle. And let's face it, if I want to retire to Vermont, I damned well better learn how to drive in snow.

I made the rounds, bade the survivors in the office a happy new year and headed out to the parking lot. The snow was pounding down. Poor Angus, left exposed in the open lot, resembled an igloo. These are the times I'm glad that I purchased car snow accessories when I bought the car. I pulled out the scrapper and the brush and proceeded to clear the windows. That took 10 minutes and there was still several inches populating the hood. I slowly made my way out of the lot,

It's a bad sign when you get onto the freeway and people are driving 25 mph. But no matter. By the time I got to the Bronx, the snow has receded and the roads, while wet, were clear. And curiously, I found myself enjoying the drive in the snow. I wasn't nervous or uncomfortable. I rode along like a pro. And I liked it.

I may just be ready for my winter vacation home up north. That said, however, I'm awfully glad I won't be one of the one million poor fucks shivering in 10 degrees temperatures in Times Square tonight. Poor devils.

Happy New Year, people.