So Dallas is in the grip of the lamest ice storm ever.
I can remember an ice storm in Orange when I was a sophomore in high school when the entire town was without power for 4 days and the roads were all blocked by fallen trees. We survived by eating cold soup direct from the can, huddling in darkened piles of blankets, trying to read by flickering candle light.
Then we walked to school, uphill, both ways, barefoot, in the snow and ice.
And we were thankful for the opportunity, dang it.
In contrast, this storm has done nothing but be cold and ice up the roads in the mornings. Which I suppose is bad enough, seeing as I was trapped on the Northwest Highway overpass for 30 minutes on Monday morning because my Truck of Malfunction didn't have enough traction to get across the icy bridge, and eventually need two burly police officers to push me across. I've apparently fallen very hard since my younger, more hardy days of my youth.
But on the whole, this is just not your crushing winter storm. So when there was an ice advisory yesterday morning, I just sacked up (and put on a fabulous scarf) and left for the office about 20 minutes early, expecting delays. And people, let me tell you, when people say that Texas drivers aren't good at driving in ice, it is the understatement of the decade. Every driver on the roads decided as a collective unit that the maximum drive speed on any road would be 15 mph. It took me 45 minutes to drive the whole 8 miles to my office building. The ice was not that bad, but you would think it was the Storm of the Century the way everyone was reacting.
And when I get there? Ain't a soul in the building. Everyone is shut down: the receptionist, my corporate office, every other office in the suite. It is me, all alone at the cold end of a long empty hallway. It is at this point that my phone vibrates, indicating that I have a new voicemail. It's my boss, informing me that we're just gonna wait to open the office until about 11:00 or so.
This would be when the martyr part comes in: I had dragged my butt through the freezing cold, risked the absolutely insane other drivers on the road who don't understand the concept of ice and skidding, and pretty much icing off vital portions of my body in the process (of course the heater doesn't work in the TOM). And no one else in the world can be bothered to even try and come in? Oh the bitterness, how it flowed. No one was even around to appreciate my awesome scarf.
And to top it all off, the login server on my computer was down, which meant I couldn't even get any work done, because only our IT guys at the corporate office can reset the server. And they were all snug in their warm beds at home, no doubt, dreaming about redundant backup RAID systems or whatever it is that IT guys like.
Oh, and the heater in the office wasn't on, so my office was basically an ice box. It was warmer standing out in the foyer than it was in my office, which seems to leak in the cold from the outside like we're a rusty shack in the woods.
I don't think I have felt so unjustly put upon in ages and ages. Sometimes it's good to just revel in that feeling, though, which is exactly what I did for about 3 hours, fuming and pacing about the office. Frankly, the righteous anger was the only thing keeping me warm.
Then I came to my senses and bolted around 2:00 and took the world's most delicious 3 hour mid afternoon nap, all while feeling vaguely sick and sneezy. I think my body wanted to contract the pneumonia from having gone out in the cold in order to get the full martyrdom thing going on. That would show them. Show them all, but good!
But alas, I survived and lived to play a whole bunch of World of Warcraft that night, making an avatar of the gayest elf that ever lived, who has blond highlights, a pink & teal outfit, and has the job of jewelry maker. So in the end I guess it all worked out for the best.
Still, man, why am I the only hard worker in the city! Oh, the injustice of it all!
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