Tuesday – 2:00 p.m.

Mom calls and asks if it’s snowing yet. Negative. I dress warmly for my evening activities and head for work. On the way there, at approximately 2:30 p.m., the snow begins. What Weather.com described as “light snow showers” turns out to actually be snow that falls parallel to the ground instead of perpendicular to it. My best estimation would be that we received about three inches of accumulation in four hours. I can only imagine what would have happened had most of the snow not missed the ground entirely.

Tuesday – 7:00 p.m.

I leave work. I realize the complaints about the wind I heard the last four hours are not exaggerations, and am almost blown off course on the way home. But the weather has not yet weakened my resolve. I will cook dinner and then brave the elements once again for a late meeting. I am convinced it cannot be debilitating. I will not let the weather change my plans.

Tuesday – 9:00 p.m.

Outside once more. It’s getting worse. But I am not alone in this endeavor, and walking in a group seems to lessen the severity of the situation. Snow is actually quite enjoyable and pretty, isn’t it? I never would have enjoyed so much snow had I attended a more southern school.

Tuesday – 11:00 p.m.

I have returned home, rather cold and wet. This horizontal snowstorm has yet to cease. I am being a true optimist, and the sliver of hope for a snow day tomorrow shines in the back of my mind. Just in case, I finish my homework and set an early alarm – it’s always good to be prepared. Plus, how amazing would it be if I wake to find classes cancelled, my work all done and I am able to sleep an extra few hours in the morning?

Wednesday – 7:30 a.m.

Alarm wakes me up. I peek outside, snow is still falling, and I can barely see my car for the drift of snow. Excitedly, I reach for my computer and open my email, crossing my fingers for the lovely message that will let me go back to sleep and enjoy a day inside. No such luck. I gloomily stare at the ceiling for another five minutes before mustering the resolve to get out of bed, shower, eat breakfast and head out the door for class.

Wednesday – 9:40 a.m.

After obsessively checking my email throughout my morning routine, just in case, I brave the winter “wonderland” and head to class. On the way there, I discover several things:

• My front steps have disappeared and now resemble simply a hill covered in snow.
• Down the street, a pickup truck is stuck in a drift and, despite its valiant, four-wheel-driven efforts to dislodge itself, it remains stuck.
• Snow isn’t really all that fun anymore.
• There are large puddles of slush in every crosswalk, making my journey to class all the more unenjoyable.

Wednesday – 1:00 p.m.

Drenched. I have been drenched with frozen, gray slush from behind by a speeding truck driving down Wisconsin Avenue. To make matters worse, I hear reports that my friends at the University of Missouri have had multiple snow days this week and University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee cancelled classes this morning. Bitterness begins to set in. So much for not “enjoying snow at a more southern school,” I guess.

Wednesday – 2:15 p.m.

I am huddled on my bedroom floor directly in front of my space heater, with a blanket and a pillow. The snow has won.

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Caroline Campbell is a senior in the College of Communication with a major in journalism and a minor in history. Email her [email protected].