Snow Day After

When I went to bed last night, my ears were still ringing. It wasn't until after I'd watched television and settled into the welcoming silence of my own bed that the persistent “eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee” was noticed. I drifted off, memories of Sweet Home Alabama mingling with the ringing. For some reason when I woke up six hours later, not all that tired, Green Day's Holiday was running through my head. Had it been on the radio when I drove home? Who knows?

It's funny how sensationalistic the news has become. I fully expect to tune in one day to see a snappy logo promoting “SNOWMAGGEDDON 2005!” or “THE UNSTOPPABLE FRIGINAUT!” A similar doomsday forecast earlier this week turned out to be nothing, so I wasn't too concerned about this morning's prediction. Mind you, it was another factor in not staying out beyond the Christmas party, but I didn't expect to shovel today. And when I looked out the window at 7:30, saw the light powder that I could easily drive over, and noted my dad doing a jigsaw puzzle on the dining room table, all seemed well. For some reason, my perceptions almost never factor in improbability. So it was that, not an hour later, when I was heading out the door there was at least four inches in my driveway.

It was time to check the work hotline. Earlier this week, when the predicted snowstorm amounted to nothing, our company announced a delayed opening. Absolutely no one, save for J-No, actually called and came in later. This morning I checked, and there was a delayed opening. Still, going in early seemed wise, if only to catch up on things I didn't get done when I left early for the party the day prior. But something in my dad's tone of voice when he assured my mother and I that he had no plans of shoveling didn't sound convincing. I took some time to at least shovel a path to the mailbox, and clear off all steps and walkways. I did about half the driveway before I had to get going or risk being late. Conditions being as they were, I was looking at potentially an hour's commute, twice my normal time.

The streets were horrendous. No plows had been by. Even at 30 miles per hour I was fishtailing every time I stepped on the brake. The weatherman on the radio joked that no one should be out in these conditions, yet many people were. He interviewed on commuter stuck in traffic who said he had to get to a meeting. I laughed at the idiot before remembering that yes, I was doing PRECISELY the same thing. Then a funny thing happened. The further South I went, the less it was snowing. In just five miles the roads went from icy to slushy to wet. By the time I got to my job, in well under an hour, there was but a light drizzle. I called home and learned that it wasn't raining, but the snow had tapered off. By lunch the sun would be shining.

The morning after a party is always quiet. Most people take a vacation day since the party is consistently held on a Thursday. A few people talked about the party, and I learned more people saw me dancing than I realized. At my meeting there were some smirks and downturned eyes, so I can only imagine what people had been saying. The rest of the day was relatively peaceful though, and my ride home was fine, until I got to the street where I live. As I turned the corner, the car skidded and grazed a snow bank. Our street hadn't been plowed, but why would it when every road in town had cleared naturally? I navigated a treacherous field of trenches formed by SUV tires, slush now frozen solid. My driveway was the biggest surprise, a sheet of snow covering most of it except for the portion I'd shoveled, and a bit more my dad had done to get his own car out later in the morning. At least he left the bottom half of the driveway for me to take care of tomorrow when it's hopefully warmer. I considered doing it tonight but I was exhausted, and it was frozen pretty solid. Tomorrow will be easier. Right now, I think my burst of spontaneous moshing has finally caught up to me. I'd be content to sleep until Spring, but I'll settle for late tomorrow morning.