It took a break for a while, but like Jason in the Friday the 13th movies it came back meaner than ever. Now we’re told the snow may get as high as 16 inches.
A lot of people still went to work, but we’re already hearing about employees being sent home early. Some of us, alas, can’t stop. Broadway’s still in business — show must go on, and all that. And journamalists, most of whom work from home or from the labyrinthine tunnels under Grand Central Station, are busy trying to make something cute out of the whole, wretched thing.
The Times, which is the cutest of all the papers in cases like this, invites readers to “Share Your Snow Day With Us.” The results are mostly depressing. “I am wondering how I will pay rent and bills in the coming months,” says one obvious freelancer. Also: “How much does the NY Times pay if they use/post a photograph?” ” i got an email at 1214pm that NYU decided to close school for the rest of the day. What a waste I came from Queens only to stay in school for a half hour.” And, most poignant of all: “Don’t bother me anymore today. I’m busy making some serious Golumpkies!”
The snow puts in a mood for love (“I am kind bored and only so much to do on a day like this… I’m single, Caucasian, employed, classy, cute, and fun… Email me for a snow day chat”). The Parks Department invites kids to come play in the snow. The Daily Beast hosts a slideshow of previous snowmageddons going back to the Blizzard of ’88.
We like our colleague Robert Sietsema’s “Making Maple-Syrup Sno Cones With Real Snow,” but we’re prejudiced. Also hungry. We didn’t buy the milk the mayor told us to buy, and can’t eat our oatmeal without it.