Managing Expectations

"The parking lot is clear," I noted as Heidi and I pulled up to Gunston on our way home from Whole Foods. "The sidewalks look good, too."

"Let's check Oakridge," she suggested. Just up the hill, the neighborhood roads were a little slushy, but the school parking lot and bus lane were wet pavement. "Damn!" she shook her head. "It looks like I'm going to school tomorrow."

"Let's swing by Jefferson and check out those neighborhoods," I said, but I wasn't hopeful. 

A little while later, we looked down side streets and checked out sidewalks as we drove down 2nd Street South. "That street looks bad," Heidi noted.

"And the sidewalks are awful," I added.

"But do the sidewalks really matter?" Heidi asked in return. "The school system has no control over them."

At Jefferson, the rec center was open, and all the outdoor parking lots were plowed. The conditions in the neighborhood on the way home were sketchy, though, and those sidewalks? Terrible. 

But on down the road, Randolph was cleared, and then Abingdon was, too.

It all comes down to the neighborhoods, we agreed; surely there would be at least a delay? Back at home, Heidi prepared to go to work: she posted her final announcement, chose her outfit, and showered. Periodically, we checked our notifications, and when the adjoining county announced they were closed, we grew slightly optimistic. 

Around 5:45 p.m., the "closed" notice for today flipped to a "normal operation" notice, and we lost hope. "Not even a delay?" Heidi asked in dismay. "I knew it!" she continued and added a few choice words for the officials in charge of such a decision. Then she texted her colleague.

A few minutes later, she received word that an operation announcement would be posted at 6:30. "Does she know what it is?" I asked, but there was no further information as the minutes ticked away. 

Heidi's phone buzzed. "Closed!" she rejoiced. "Phew! They had me worried."