So I got up at 4 am and my flight was still not cancelled, despite the 2 inches of thick snow covered by a sheet of ice, with more sleet on the way. I couldn’t imagine getting in my car at 5:00 in the morning for a pants-shittingly terrifying 40 mile ride to airport over the hilly, barely plowed, dark, icy highway. Not to mention, our original morning flight had been cancelled and we were now getting in an hour and half later. If we got delayed even a little bit, the whole meeting schedule would be thrown to hell.
So I cancelled the trip. Luckily, because they cancelled our original flight, they changed the tickets without any fees or anything. I pushed it back two weeks. Miguel’s work called a snow day. My small office, typically, has been mum. It’s an every man for himself policy. The gist of it is: If you think it’s too bad to come into work, then stay home (but we will secretly think you are a big slacker pussy). Well, it’s 8 and this slacker is going back to bed for a couple hours, because she’s been up since 4. I will try to get into the office around noon or so. Miguel will probably drive me.