In light of my cancelled work trip, I spent the day working at home, shifting between my dining table and the couch, under my blanket and outside of it. The snow was steadily falling from very early this morning until now. We’re currently almost at 9am and the snow really has not stopped for even a little bit.
I looked down at the ground and saw the white sticking everywhere, and it just made me feel so miserable. I want milk for my tea and Weetbix, but I have zero desire to deal with the sludge and mess that is outside. I do not understand how anyone can get excited by this.
“Snow is awesome,” my colleague said when I told him that I hate snow days. “Yes, snow is awesome,” I responded back. “It’s awesome when I am inside, in my warm apartment, under a blanket drinking a hot drink, watching the snow fall on the OUTSIDE.”
And outside of Manhattan, if I lived in a real house, I cannot even begin to fathom how awful it would be to shovel snow, deal with snow tires and chains, and ice everywhere. That sounds like the most miserable first world life possible. These are the moments when I wished I lived in Southern California and was completely ignorant of this cold misery.