Grump Central Logbook: Week of 31 December 2017
Saturday, 6 January. We've now endured eleven days and nights of bitter cold. But there's hope on the horizon. After tonight's predicted sub-zero low, and after a possible ice storm Monday night, a warming trend is on the way, with highs potentially in the 50s by the end of the week. None too soon!
Friday, 5 January. Dodged a bullet—only got about 5 inches of snow. The killer is the cold: the high for the next two days will barely make two digits, with lows below zero and wind chills in the minus teens. While I don't have any trouble staying warm, I do have difficulty keeping my mind off of the situation. The stress is like painful paralysis.
Thursday, 4 January. White is the color of the day as we're hit by a brutal blizzard that started in Florida yesterday. May get upwards of a foot before it's all over tonight, so it's a day to just hunker down and wait for it to pass.
Wednesday, 3 January. 7 was the low last night. The forecast calls for up to 6 inches of snow tomorrow, with strong winds and whiteout conditions, followed by sub-zero lows on the weekend. This is not helping my emotional state one bit, nor is the continued radio silence. (Yes, the ground really does slope down to the right—note the vertical tree right next to me.)
Tuesday, 2 January. The low last night was 10—a veritable heat wave. Today marks a return to work for the rest of the world; I've got five emails sent to my attorney dating back to 24 November that remain unanswered, and I'm wondering when I'll hear from him. Such is life in Purgatory.
Monday, 1 January. Awoke this morning to an outdoor temperature of two degrees. Forecast calls for highs in the teens and lows near zero for the next week, so the shabby remains of Saturday's snow will be sticking around for a while. Very depressing.
Sunday, 31 December. Last day of the year, and New Year's Eve is going to be the coldest night of the year, with an expected low near zero—that ought to put a dent in Times Square attendance. I'll be bidding farewell to 2017 the same way I've bid farewell to every other day of the year: asleep. Anyway, 2017 is a year I'd prefer to forget.
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