“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 696 (Monday) - paths

Snow tracks.

As the sun rose and cast its rays across the snow in the backyard. It highlighted two sets of little critter tracks from the shoveled path to the gate across the snow to either side of the back yard shed. 

The part of my street that can be see from the house looked reasonably clear of snow, and I set out for the workday thinking that was an indication of the level of street clearing that had occurred since the storm ended. I turned left out of my driveway and made it halfway up the street before that delightful little fantasy was dashed to smithereens. Further up, the road was plowed not much wider than one car width, flanked by deep swaths of snow.

The sloppy streets trend continued most of the way and it was a hellacious white-knuckle drive through the narrow, snow clogged streets of Lowell. From the garage, it was a trudge through the sometimes shoveled, sometimes snow-clogged paths along the downtown sidewalks.

Once safely seated at my desk, it was another of those out straight workdays. Things were wrapped up, other things were moved further along the path to completion. One minute it was 8:30. The next thing I knew it was 11:00. Then it was 3:00. Suddenly, it was after 5:00 and time to head out. 

Winston not wanting to get up.

The ride home was almost as a rough as the ride in. Outside the garage there were traffic lights flashing red and yellow instead of cycling through all the colors. One major road had parked police cars, officers in the road with light wands, and a major snow relocation operation underway.  

The traffic through the University area featured the usual joy of cars rolling through the red light and blocking the intersection. The slow progress allowed time to run through the pantry inventory and plan supper. It was between frozen egg roll and ramen, but ramen won for speed of preparation and its filling properties.

The next thing to look forward to is reading in bed. All I have to say is “Let’s go to bed,” and Winston emerges from under the living room blanket, springs to life, and is ready to sniff and pick his path upstairs. He loves going to bed, but getting him up in the morning is less easy and he lingers under the blanket as long as possible. We are so much alike. If not for the schedule driven by food and insulin, Winston could just stay in bed. If not for the schedule driven by the work path chosen to satisfy my fondness for food and shelter, I could just stay in bed.