Last night I was supposed to get out of work at 9:30 PM. I managed to leave at about 10 PM and headed home. Connecticut was in the midst of a snowstorm last night, and I couldn't get my wimpy department-issued Ford Five Hundred front-wheel-drive POS up the hill to my house. After trying for a few minutes I backed down the hill and waited to see if the plows were still out. They weren't.
I wound up going back to the office and waiting until 6 AM to head home. At least I got some work done, though it was all "V.O.T." (voluntary overtime, meaning I got no pay for it.)
When I got home there was was a foot of snow on the driveway, since the guy who usually does my driveway hadn't been out yet... I got stuck trying to bash through the snowdrift at the entrance. I had to dig myself out or when my neighbor came by later to plow the driveway he'd be blocked by my stuck POS car.
By the time I finally got into the house I was pissed at the world and ready to put my fist through a wall. I was tired, hungry (I had packed a dinner for work but had eaten it around 7PM the previous night, and I didn't have anything else with me), and in a thoroughly foul mood.
I head up the stairs, clumps of snow falling off me and smoke coming out of my ears. When I got to the top of the stairs I hear "Good morning, Daddy!" and I see my soon-to-be-four-years-old triplets sitting in the dark on the floor outside their bedroom door. They told me they saw me through their bedroom window and couldn't wait to hug me.
I immediately felt about a thousand percent better! Kids are great! :-)


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