The White Shit

When I get up every morning at 5:30 am, my first step is to turn on the television. I always monitor the weather and traffic--two key metrics that could affect the start of my day. Today, the NBC meteorologists were predicting rain and/or a snow flurry. That's cake, people. I have mastered driving in that. No worries, I thought.

Meteorology is not a perfect science. But by the time I was on the Cross Bronx, it was socked in with snow and slick roadways. Cars were spinning out and they were fish-tailing when changing lanes. Fuck. This was going to be a long ride in to Connecticut. I considered turning around and going home. But I persevered.

It took me 2-1/2 hours of white knuckle driving to get in. When I mounted the ramp leading to the office parking garage, my brakes locked up and I couldn't stop. I furiously pumped the brake and once I hit unsullied concrete, the car stopped...and just short of a hard concrete wall. That scared me, to say nothing of my passengers (the commuters I pick up in CT every day).

I love my job. I have given up a great deal of vacation time and many weekends for it. But I won't give my life for it. That's why I left work at 4 pm today. Black ice is not my friend. These conditions are pretty damned treacherous.

Don't get me wrong. I love snow, usually when I'm inside and enjoying it at my leisure. But not today.