It snowed last night and this morning in Massachusetts. It was just a little bit, but it was enough to seemingly drive people insane. I’ll never understand the reaction of most people to the first snow of the season. It seems to instill panic and fear and create ungodly snarls in traffic that would otherwise be reserved for places like California or New York. Why is it that even the simplest sprinkling of snow today caused my seven mile, normally twenty-minute commute, to turn into an hour and a half of agony?

I didn’t even get the worst of it. Stephanie was one of quite a few people I knew who ended up turning around and going home yesterday. The traffic was bumper-to-bumper on nearly every road in the Merrimack Valley, regardless of whether it was a major throughway or the quaintest of backroads. It didn’t matter. Because the highways were so clogged people were using the normal roads and because the normal roads were so clogged they were using the shortcut roads and so on, and so forth.

In the midst of it all I was turning up my car stereo, which receives no stations, very loud. I was trying to drown out the noises in my head with the static, and it worked. I banged my fists against the roof of the car, the outside of my door, and then, when that started to hurt, I picked up an empty jug of antifreeze that I had in my back seat and started banging that against things.

I also found time to read a complete short story during the ordeal, but that’s just not as exciting to write about.

Anyway, I made it to work eventually and I was actually the first one of my department there, not the last as I had feared. I got some work done, ate some lunch, and then came back this way to workout, very glad that the traffic on the way home was nothing compared to the traffic on the way in.