Vacation Driveway Getaway

It took me two hours longer than I estimated digging out from the last snowphoon. When walls of snow almost better measured in Buffalo feet than inches blankets everything in its wake, how long it will take to shovel is not an exact science. By the time I dug out and drove to work safely, it was 10:30am. I was physically exhausted. Understandably, the office was a ghost town except for the occasional voice or swish of snow pants rubbing together when someone walked by my desk.

I started to think that the region's unprecedented excess white weather had something to do with only twenty percent of the workforce reporting for duty. My administration ruled that shoveling out too slow is not an excusable lateness. Employees who braved the elements yet arrived late were rewarded for their conscientious efforts with rejected time sheets. While I was never at risk for docked pay, I did have to use my own personal time to cover the two hour snow penalty.

Now I can fondly look back on this picture of me laboring an ice pick on the driveway scoop to break apart dwarf icebergs. I didn't even need a travel agent for this vacation.