Like a Headless Diary-Entry-Posting chicken

In which our Hero very clearly should not have stopped procrastinating his trip to work

Just to make up for the heavy regret last, let’s do a light fluffy one. Because right now I am *deeply* regretting coming to work this morning. I’m a contractor. I have the option to say “Hey I’m working from home” at my discretion and normally I bail on storms because why bother struggling to work when nobody else is there and nobody else cares?

But I guess I got into the hurry-hurry mentality, and then I distracted myself having tripped over the apparently longstanding fact that we have an ethnographer in our diminishing midst which has me all kinds of curious (doubly so because of my current fiction reading which was oddly relevant), so then I was in a rush to get to work and the snow coming down had lulled so things looked calm and peaceful and so I headed out beyond the Wall

of the garage and it was all slow moving wildlings out there. Took me about about 3 times my normal commute which sounds impressive but I live really close to work, so we’re still talking under 45 minutes. The really anxious part was just struggling to get up the steep hill in the middle of my route. My guess is it’s something about the tread pattern and the deep snow but the car just kept wanting to shimmy sideways under power. Which is a little traumatic next to the giant yellow school bus dancing up the hill beside me.

I finally got to work and… nobody who would care. Well onebody, but he’s a contractor like me. Hell, after him, *I* would be the closest thing to adult supervision in that department and I normally have zero authority outside of my direct project. But the rest were all the contractors who prefer to be seen earning their daily bread.

Why did I do this? Why on earth did I bother?

The punch line was that I went home after lunch because there’s no point in fighting my way home in snowy traffic, but the driveway was so much more covered that the best I could do was to back the car onto the street, charge the driveway until I could swamp just far enough the driveway to be out of the street.

The guys at work were surprised I went in. I was surprised I went in. My dad was surprised I went in. I’m really regretting it. Except for finding a fresh and growing snowbank on underground level 3 of the parking structure where the snowstorm was puffing gently through a ventilation shaft. That part was kind of funny.

Okay. 78 to go. You think this is pointless, Gentle Reader, just give it a while.

I’ve already put contact information into a more official farewell to this place. Everything since that entry is just doodling in the notebook because there are a few pages left. Just in case, though, good bye.