Will it snow or will it not?
That’s the big question on everyone’s mind tonight.
The snow plow operators hope for a big one. It means work. Overtime for most.
The commuters hope it won’t. It means slow going, loss of hours, loss of pay, possible accidents.
For me it means the halt of motorcycling and the beginning of riding the bus to work. It means longer commutes, longer days. But it also means reading time, maybe short naps, more writing, and no gas money spent.
It seems that for many the coming of the snow means different things to different people. But the one person that seems to benefit the most and yet has the most to lose, is the weatherman. Everyone is tuning in to see if the storm will split or not, he’s in the limelight, a star. Eventually he’ll have to make his forecast and depending if he’s right or not, half of us will curse him and the other will be too busy enjoying it, we’ll never give him another thought.
I figure it matters very little what I wish. I find the weather does what it will regardless.
We’ll see in the morning.