Eleanor Roosevelt famously said you should do one thing every day that scares you. Well, mission accomplished for today, Mrs. Roosevelt. I drove during a WINTER WEATHER EVENT.
Over the weekend the weathermen started excitedly forecasting a Thanksgiving Eve snowstorm. If there are two things weather people love, it's some drama and the opportunity to come up with a catchy name for a storm. I think the combination of the term "Snowvember" and the fact that there were no hurricanes or major floods to keep them busy this summer made them desperate for this storm to turn into something major.
As a result, lots of people shrugged off the forecast as much ado about nothing. However, I was not one of those people. I HATE driving in the snow. I try to remain calm and in control but I cannot help it- I panic if I know I have to drive anywhere when the road conditions may be less than ideal.
And so, I did what any normal person does when the forecast calls for snow. I CALLED MY BOSS AND TOLD HER I WOULD NEED THE DAY OFF.
In all fairness, I was already flirting with the idea of taking the day off because I had a doctor's appointment scheduled for 10:00, and I was tempted by the prospect of a five day weekend. But it was the forecast that sealed the deal.
The changeover from rain to snow hadn't happened when I left for the doctor at 9:30 this morning, but I threw a granola bar in my purse before I left JUST IN CASE I got stranded on the roads. At the last minute I decided to also bring a few mozzarella cheese sticks with me because you can never be too prepared, and I shoved two in the front pocket of my sweatshirt on my way out the door.
Please keep in mind that the forecast called for ONE TO THREE INCHES.
I HAVE NOT MOVED TO BUFFALO.
I had an appointment with the podiatrist because I have aged fifty years since I turned 26, and at the end of the appointment the doctor told grandma here that I could put my shoes back on while he finished fixing up my orthotic.
Please imagine my embarrassment as I bent down to put my sneakers on and those two cheese sticks SLID OUT OF MY POCKET AND ONTO THE FLOOR.
The doctor looked at my cheese and me quizzically, and for a split second I thought about explaining that I brought them along in case I got stranded in my car due to the weather conditions. I decided that scenario was just as odd, if not moreso, than just being that girl who carries cheese in her pocket, so I just said, "Oh, cheese!" and picked them up as fast as I could.
(Just kidding about the "oh, cheese" part. I didn't actually say that because I didn't think of it until this very minute but how hilarious would that have been?)
The first flakes were falling as I drove home, and I white knuckled it the entire way. Once I merged onto the highway I positioned myself behind a fruit truck that was driving slowly and sensibly because it seemed like the right thing to do. I stopped just short of turning on my flashers to broadcast my intense fear to my fellow motorists.
The drive was uneventful but when I pulled into our parking lot I was so relieved I wanted to cry.
And now, allow me to provide a visual aid of the road conditions at the time of my travel.
It's a wonder I made it home on those not-at-all-snow-covered roads.
I still don't regret taking the cheese.
Better safe (and mortified) than sorry.