Be Prepared. Or Not. Whatever.

We're hunkering down, people. Blizzard of the century and all that, but what was really epic was the fact that folks around here have been mobbing stores and gas stations since Wednesday. Actually, earlier, because I tried to buy a snow shovel at Home Depot on Wednesday, and the salesguy just laughed at me when I asked where they were. "GONE," he said. "They're all gone."

The Holy Grail, in these parts

Oh, well, I thought. The grocery stores have them. So the girls and I went back to the car and drove to Harris Teeter. Where we couldn't park, because there were so many people prepping for the blizzard. We drove to Target. The shovel aisle was empty. We drove to KMart, which had a sign on the front door saying, "We Have No Snow Shovels."

This was Wednesday. I gave up on prepping for the blizzard and went home. Maybe tomorrow, I thought, as I scrolled through a Facebook newsfeed replete with photos of empty shelves at Trader Joe's and Safeway. Everyone else is shopping today, so I'll try tomorrow.

I still couldn't park at Harris Teeter on Thursday. There were long lines at all the gas stations. So I did what any responsible person would do in the face of an impending storm of cataclysmic proportions: I spent the evening at my friend's house, catching up on Downton Abbey.

Friday morning (or D-Day, meteorologically speaking) dawned, and I realized time was running short. Brian still needed snowboots, for heaven's sake. I looked online - LLBean had not one pair of size 10 waterproof boots left. NOT ONE. REI had a pair, however, so I grabbed Brian and sped to the store, which was being mobbed by irresponsible people like myself. Salespeople were dashing around as if they were on speed, but I managed to collar one and shouted, "I need the Keens size 10 waterproof boots!" He tossed a box at me, which I handed to Brian, warning him, "That's the last pair in this entire area, buddy. People are desperate. DON'T LET GO."

WE WILL NOT STARVE

We headed to Harris Teeter again, where the third time was the charm, at least so far as finding a parking space was concerned. I was still hoping to find a decent shovel. No such luck, but I scored some Sudafed and 3 $5 subs. Who says I don't know how to prep for a blizzard, hey?

Larry came home from work early and sealed his status as Most Favored Husband by driving all over town looking for a gas station where he could fill up my car's tank without waiting in line for an hour. He also brought home propane for the camping stove, so I guess he would definitely outlast me on a Survivor episode. But that's okay, because I have no desire to go on existing after the demise of civilization as I know it. Life without hot water just isn't worth it to me.

So here I am, in the middle of a storm that seems not nearly as dramatic as its build-up, popping decongestants, goofing off on the Internet, and thanking the powers that be that I actually remembered to sign the neighborhood snowplowing contract this week. If our battered old shovels hold up, we just might make it through this thing.



[Snow shovel image: Southern States]
[Sub image: Yelp]