A week ago, I took comfort during a frigid snap when I saw that Saturday's forecast was for 65 degrees and sunny. Today, I'm looking out my window at gigantic snowflakes flying through the air on a day that couldn't be grayer.
Weather guys get a bad rap, and I don't want to kill them too much, but sometimes they're just cruel.
At least Holly's already in Aspen, with hot toddies and rich people and nice rental skis. And I have the cats and their meaningless yelping to keep me company. Awesome.