So we're sitting here waiting for a snowstorm. This morning they were talking about flurries, then an inch or two, and now they are predicting six inches.
I love the first snowstorm of the year. What I hate is the people who think six inches of fluffly white powder signals the coming of armageddon and they must run out to the grocery store and knock each other down for the last loaf of bread.
Oh, this calls for a repeat post!
From January 19, 2002:
Big storm on the way. I'm mostly excited, I like the first snow of the year. But I would much rather have it during the week so I can get a day off from work.
So I went to the grocery store this morning - not in anticipation of the weather, I'm not one of those "prepare for the end of the world when a storm is coming" people - but because I had the urge to make steak tonight. I get to the store and there's a local reporter out there, questioning everyone about the snow, because you know how those news people love a good storm story. He was asking shoppers what they were buying, what were they stocking up on (come on people, it's 6 inches, not 3 feet!) and asking how they were getting ready for the weather. I see him approaching me as I walk towards the entrance. I'm not in a very good mood. Traffic was bad, I'm tired and cranky. I do not want to be on the news talking about buying toilet paper and water. So he stands in front of me, cameraman in tow, and throws the microphone in front of my face.
"So," he says, "What are you buying today m'am?"
I say nothing but this does not deter him.
"Are you stocking up on necessities for the first storm of the year?"
I look straight into the camera and grin.
"I'm buying Tampons," I say.
His jaw drops, the cameraman giggles and I brush past him and head into the store. Let's assume I will not be on the news tonight.
Sometimes I wonder how I've gotten this far in life without being punched in the face.