Since last winter, I’ve been fantasizing about moving away from New Jersey to a place where I’d never have to see snow again or at the very least have some idea what the weather will be every day. Last year only ranked as the 14th worst winter on record but felt much worse. I actually lived through the worst winter in the state in terms of snowfall (1995-96), but that year didn’t traumatize me like last winter did. I was in college back then so maybe that was it.
Considering it was 20 years between that worst winter and the one that had me itching to flee the state, odds were that maybe I would be able to handle whatever this winter threw at me since moving to a warmer climate wasn’t exactly practical. It made more sense to keep my expectations realistic and attempt to go with the flow.
As my Facebook feed reminds me daily, the cold and the snow are typical in this region and therefore I should just settle down with my winter angst. I do expect a certain amount of bad weather and, in fact, I’ve been pretty quiet until now about how frozen my fingers are and how tired I am of wearing so many layers. But after Mother Nature taunted me as she did last week, I’m done. I give up. I’m out.
I’m not a flexible person. I like to have a plan and stick to it, but given how unpredictable the weather is, I try not to make too many plans. Since I’m trying to meet the universe half way here and not put unrealistic expectations it, I think it would be super awesome if maybe the universe could get off my back for a change. You see, I had plans last week and the weather decided to mess with me.
First up on Thursday was a focus group which was an opportunity to earn some actual money. The location of the event was about 20 miles from my house and no sooner were the details all firmed up did the 5-day forecast start to not look so hot. I don’t put much stock in longer-range outlooks though so I decided to pretend I wasn’t stressed. Plus I had bigger fish to fry.
My kid’s birthday party was scheduled for Saturday. 17 kids and more than a dozen adults were supposed so to gather at my house for a Pokemon celebration. I still had a million things to do that didn’t make sense to do until closer to the party. With close to half a foot of “wintry mix” anticipated for Saturday afternoon, I started sending texts to see if moving the party was a viable option. It was not.
I’ve had virtually nothing to do for weeks that couldn’t be easily rescheduled. Suddenly, now that I had obligations scheduled and I had been praising the weather for not being a giant jerk so far, it was making me regret ever saying anything nice.
Thankfully, after 24 hours of watching the predicted snow accumulations go up and down for Thursday morning (and subsequently wondering if I was going to earn that money or not), there ended up being no precipitation at all. Saturday went from 5″-8″ to 3″-5″, then to less than 1″, only to have 5″ or so fall on Friday night and nothing on Saturday. Sure, I went through half a bottle of Tums from the stress, but at least things worked out.
Then there was a blizzard warning.