Today was a study in opposites. Either I ran into long lines of people. Or I was all alone in a veritable ghost town.
The quick trip to the grocery store: Long lines.
The large downtown bank: Nobody.
The post office: Long lines — reminiscent of Christmas rush.
Supper at my newest favorite downtown Mexican eatery, the Iguana Grill: Nada.
The kitchen-bed-bath department store where I sometimes buy my coffee: Mostly empty shelves. The cashier ringing up my purchase apologized for their being so little selection. But being the blizzard buzzard I’ve become today, I was glad to walk away with dregs.
All this mad dash of stockpiling groceries and tanking up on my gotta-have Mexican food and taking care of loose ends which really could have waited but for this sense that they really couldn’t — was due to what weather experts are already willing to call a record-breaking blizzard — hours before its scheduled arrival.
When it hits — any time now — it will begin with freezing rain and top us off with 12 hours of snow. By this time tomorrow, there will be 8-12 inches on the ground so we’re advised to stay put.
I hate the certainty of it all — the forgone conclusion that it’s a record-breaker before a single flake of snow has fallen from the sky — while at the same time, grateful for the warning that’s helped me be as prepared as possible.
Only a little watching of television weather news makes me wish to tune into my windows, where the real story waits to unfold without hype. And without long lines. And without question that my little slice of the world will soon become a veritable ghost town.