January 10, 2025 – 12:14 PM
Diary of a Snowbound Visionary, Day 2 (Still Day 1)
Dear future historians,
Much has transpired since my last entry. Shortly after sipping my Super Orange Emergen-C and mocking the absence of snow, trouble struck the heart of civilization—Corporate experienced technical issues. In the absence of any actual blizzard-related peril, digital chaos reigned supreme.
I lost power at home, the cruel irony of working remotely during a snowstorm without snow. Determined to serve my comrades and armed with nothing but my wits and a half-charged phone, I braved the perilous, completely dry roads to venture into the office. The forecast loomed large in my mind as I drove through a desolate land of unplowed asphalt.
Together, our heroic team battled the forces of technological breakdown. By 10:10 AM, we emerged victorious, having resolved the day’s troubles with great valor—and zero snow on our cars. Returning home, I pressed onward, eyes scanning the horizon for the first signs of winter’s wrath. Then, at precisely 10:54 AM… I saw them.
Flurries.
Small, delicate, fleeting. Like whispers of a legend long foretold, they danced through the air. For a brief, wondrous moment, I thought, This is it. The storm begins.
And now, at 12:14 PM, the snow falls steadily. If you squint—if you tilt your head just right—you can almost see a dusting on the grass. Nature’s fury, my friends, is truly upon us.
I remain on high alert. Supplies of milk remain stable. Bread remains elusive. Updates to follow as events unfold, assuming my courage and connectivity endure.
Stay vigilant, fellow snow survivors.
© 2025, Robert Owen. All rights reserved.
