Well, as bad as this last winter storm was, it was nothing compared to the Blizzard of '78. With the power completely out in my apartment building, I had to creep down four flights of stairs with a flashlight. Of course my car was buried and frozen shut, so my dad came over with, I dunno, a blowtorch or something, and got me into it. After my shift, I couldn't even go home; everyone called off, plus you couldn't even get to your car in the lot (assuming you could find the frickin' lot) between the snow and the cold and the 60 mile an hour winds. I worked ob-gyn at the time, so after my second shift I spent the night on a bed in the delivery room--ugh, ugh, ugh, just think of it!!! I worked day shift the next day and finally got out at 3:30 p.m.. I chiseled my way out of the parking lot and started for home, only to get stuck on the Clark Avenue bridge where total strangers sprang to my rescue and pushed me to safety.
Dedication? Or stupidity? I still haven't figured it out. But the next time they have to haul in the National Guard, I am soooo calling off sick.
In the meantime, I'm out of my favorite coffee and trying to choke down a cup of Maxwell House. Bleeach!
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