After my adventure on Monday, I can safely say I am no longer excited about snow.
Thankfully the coffee shop next door is also open. We celebrate the fact that we arrived in once piece with coffee and breakfast. Customers are only trickling in at this point, and things are looking up. Another co-worker arrives and we have just enough staff so we can manage the dogs on a skeleton crew.
The trek home turns out to be a slog.
I stand at the bus stop for a half an hour and wonder if this bus has been re-routed too, because my app keeps telling me it has come and gone or will be arriving NOW. So I walk the four blocks down to the stop I know will be on the route, and the bus drives past me before I can get there. I stand and wait another ten minutes, and thankfully a second bus arrives.
Halfway to the freeway, we turn and take a different route. I’m suddenly paranoid I got on the wrong bus. I mean, it’s way off course. I decide, fuck it, and just wait to see where we end up. Everything turns out fine and we end up on the right freeway eventually.
My transfer bus driver is fabulous and doesn’t make me pay again. I hadn’t expected to ride the bus, so my transit card that allows me free transfers was empty by the time I got to work. He’s cheerful driver, talkative, and is clearly happy to just be helping people get to and from their destinations on this cold and wet day.
I get off the bus, and my shoes promptly soak through in the melting snow. They’d stayed water resistant until that point. So head home and change my shoes, and once I realize my jeans are soaked, those too. The dentist could wait.
Their office had called begging me to get their as soon as possible so they could close early, and I promised I would.
By the time I’m ready to go again, I’m thrilled that the snow has all but melted. Instead of walking the two blocks to my dentist, I happily pull my car out of the driveway.
Fingers crossed I’ll be able to repeat the feat on Tuesday morning.