In the middle of last week, Mother Nature apparently decided to have a bet with Michael Bay over who could make the biggest natural disaster ever. The local weather stations were in a tizzy (yes, I said tizzy) for days leading up to the storm, and my mom put on her serious voice when she warned me that they were saying it’d be less like the blizzard of ’70-something and more like the blizzard of ’60-something. The significance of this reference was utterly lost on me.
However, smelling the chance for a legitimate, adult snow day, I duly went to Meijer the night before the end of the world (a year early, according to my calendar) and stocked up on the essentials: pizza rolls, buffalo bleu kettle chips, and milk (for macaroni and cheese.) Had I not gotten a couple of bottles of free wine handed to me by my boss at the office that day, I’d have grabbed something to drink as well, but I was in the right place at the right time that morning.
I woke up on Wednesday morning and at first figured that the storm had proven to be less than everyone said it would. Then I looked out the window.
What’s simultaneously awesome and lousy about my job is that I have the ability to work at about 80-90% efficiency from pretty much anywhere. Including my apartment when it’s too snowy outside to drive into work. So while others got adult snow days, I got to work. Granted, it was from home, and I got to watch Sam pick fights with bags…
…and have Macaroni and Cheese for lunch and pizza rolls for dinner. Because it’s a blizzard, and even though I have things like blackened salmon and chicken breasts in my freezer, pizza rolls felt much more appropriate.
Thursday I was back to work, but my youngest brother who is still in high school got the rest of the week off. Bugger.
Leave a Reply