The streets were fine when I drove into work. The highway had just a dusting of powder on the blacktop, and the local roads were sprinkled reassuringly with sand. I just walked by the hallway with windows. It's still snowing outside, big gorgeous fat flakes turning all the cars white, blanketing the ground. The snowplow went by as I watched, clearing the aisles. Unlike its southern neighbors, Carroll County is nothing if not prepared.
There's an emergency number to call if you think work might be canceled, but I never call it. The only time they closed the place down was when people were already here and the weight of the snow on the roof was threatening to collapse the building. Now, "snow" just means that I need to drive a bit slowly, get into work a bit later, and guess at the lines in the parking lot.
It finally feels like winter. I want to go home and put up the Christmas tree.
There's an emergency number to call if you think work might be canceled, but I never call it. The only time they closed the place down was when people were already here and the weight of the snow on the roof was threatening to collapse the building. Now, "snow" just means that I need to drive a bit slowly, get into work a bit later, and guess at the lines in the parking lot.
It finally feels like winter. I want to go home and put up the Christmas tree.