I had to fly from Philadelphia to Boston during a snowstorm for a work trip once. The flight got pushed back and pushed back. I sat down on the floor of the terminal as passengers got stranded and seats became scarce.
I would say snow blanketed the runways, but I couldn’t see them. I could barely trace the faint outline of an airplane.
I got to Boston after midnight, starving, because I hadn’t eaten all day. I rented a car and white-knuckled my way to the hotel.
The next day, I was in a conference room talking to a PowerPoint and saying stuff that I thought could’ve been an email.
I was still young enough to find it funny, rather than irritating.
We went out into the freezing Boston air for lunch, the sun highlighting our cold-pinked cheeks.