Let it snow . . .

If I hit it right, I can get to work in twenty-five minutes. Strangely, "hitting it right" means leaving late. Of course, that also means that there aren't any accidents on the way, and that the weather cooperates. I don't count on that.

Yesterday, it took me almost two and a half hours to get to work. I probably shouldn't have even tried, but after having just been off for two weeks, I don't want anyone to feel like I'm taking advantage--not that they would, but I just don't want to be perceived as a "sissy," I guess. About half way there, I was thinking that it was a bad idea, but I felt like I was committed at that point, and there wasn't much use in turning around.

When I got to work, the parking lot hadn't been plowed, but I could see the plot coming down the street, so I just drove around the block a couple of times, hoping he'd clear some parking spaces. But then I realized that I could just as easily get stuck on the street somewhere a block or so away, and came back and plowed my own way into a spot. I figured if I couldn't get out later, someone would come down and help me dig it out.

At 3:00 Cello said I should probably leave, that they were predicting more snow, and I should try to get a headstart, so I shut everything down and left at about 3:30; it took me a little over an hour to get home. It felt like an incredibly short day even though I spent most of the it in the car . . .

When I got home, Bob was standing out in the front with several of our neighbors, everyone armed with snow shovels. He said that he had helped several people shovel their driveways, and he'd shoveled our sidewalk and tried shoveling our driveway, but it's huge--our garage is on the side of the house, so the driveway (which is double in width, since we share it with the people next door) kind of wraps around the side of the house. And it was still snowing, anyway.

So I waved at them as I drove by, and just barrelled into the drivway and into the garage, which he had left open for me. I've driven in snow, and gotten stuck, enough to know that he who hesitates is lost. Most of the time, you're better off just not stopping, if you can. It's the momentum that's important. Bob told me later that he had watched several other people get stuck, and that I was the only one who'd been able to make it.

I really didn't want to go out in it this morning, but once I got out of the subdivision, the streets were fine, and the highway was dry, and I just sailed in. I wouldn't have expected today to be one of the days that I hit it right.