It’s been a month since I went to the office. I skipped the holiday party in mid-December. Then we got word that multiple party attendees came down with covid. With the office as a certified Hot Zone, I avoided it for the next couple weeks.
I was planning to go in this Wednesday. On Tuesday it snowed all afternoon—huge soft snowflakes that accumulated on grass and turned to slush on pavement. Snow is great. I went out for a walk to enjoy it. However, it was falling temps: 35 degrees in the afternoon, low of 29 overnight. I could tell the entire ten-minute walk to the train station would be an ice rink by morning. (The actual train station grounds are immaculately shoveled and salted. The walk there along the shoulder of the road would be moderately hazardous. The condo grounds would be Icefield5000. The association’s idea of “snow clearing” is a perfunctory sweep when the snow first hits and then a shovel and bucket of salt in every foyer as a subtle suggestion to DIY.)
So here I am, sitting at home in jeans and a warm hoodie drinking a hot mug of mocha. Not a bad life, really.
I was really truly planning to head in next Wednesday, but then I heard we’re having a snowstorm on Friday and single-digit temperatures next week. Well, we’ll see how it goes.
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