Tuesday was, it now seems, our “nice” day for the week. It was warm enough for me to go outside and clear off Julia & Michael’s car, which I’m borrowing (but, clearly not using) while they are away. I even made it out for dinner – and a not-insubstantial amount of red wine – at my friend Lori’s house. Yes, she lives just around the corner, but it was the farthest I’d been from home in days, so it felt like a victory.
A victory, I must say, that was terribly short-lived. The snow kicked up again while we were eating, and we’d already gotten a couple of inches of fresh powder by the time I headed home. That was nothing compared to what awaited me this morning when I got up, which was another blizzard.
I don’t really know how much the final total today was. I mostly gave up looking – it’s just gotten too depressing. I do know that mid-day I found out via Twitter that the DC area had officially surpassed the 110-year-old record for highest snowfall in a season. Couldn’t we have been trying for the so-beautiful-you-could-cry weather record? I wouldn’t mind crushing that one.
At any rate, I’m officially on snowbattical for at least another day. Whoopee.