Wherein I again demonstrate that I’m curmudgeonly, even about snow
Any kid who grew up in the Pacific Northwest knows better than to take seriously the snowy forecasts we’ve been getting lately. So why am I still so giddy? I sit by a large window, and thus have been designated official snowwatcher by my coworkers who aren’t fortunate enough to have an outside view. If the flurries start at noon, as predicted, I’ll send out the first word. I’m on the edge of my seat!
Of course, the promise of snow also brings a certain amount of anxiety. I live atop a big hill and when it gets bad enough, they close the road that goes up it. I’d have to park at the bottom and walk up. Not generally a problem, but when I’m wearing fancy work shoes, the idea of hiking it up Queen Anne Ave. is a bit daunting.
And then there is the threat that it will mess with my plans to drive to Portland tomorrow night. Or, worse, strand me in Portland on Sunday. The Boy said last night, “How cool would it be if it snowed so much you got stuck in Portland?” Romantic? Yes. Cool? I think my cats, whom I will be abandoning for two days as is, might beg to differ.
That said, I’m still staring out my window in gleeful anticipation. And, I’m not so secretly hoping we have to close the office early, giving me more time to shave my legs before I see The Boy.