Shock and disbelief: This can't be happening. The weather people said it wouldn't start being bad until one. Why is it snowing at 10? I've got to hurry up and get out of here.
Denial: Oh, I've given myself plenty of time to get home. This should be fine. I made sure I went to bathroom before I left. I have cigarettes and plenty of music. Maybe I can even stop and pick up something on my way home. This will be fine. I just know it.
Bargaining: To whatever superior being is up there, I will do anything you say if that big hill on Route 32 is clear and I can make it up it. Please, please, please.
Guilt: If I die on my mother's birthday (December 13) she will never forgive me.
Anger: Why the freak can't I see out my windshield! Why is the ice freezing on the wipers and now I have only a small spot I can see out of! Why are these people driving so fast! Why are they even on the road? Where's the &*%* snowplow guy??? Why didn't I leave earlier?
Depression: I'll never make it home. I will die in Franklin, CT.
Acceptance and hope: I only have control over my car. I do not control the weather. I do not control the other drivers. I will just aim for that little spot of road I can see that was left by previous drivers. At the next stoplight, I will get out and clear my windshield. I will make it home. You can do it, Wendy. Good girl.
So, it took me three hours to make it home. I left at 11:30. Stuck in traffic at the on-ramp onto 395 and sat there for forty minutes while I watched the snow pile up, knowing it would only get worse once I hit 32. I made it into my door at 2:30. The only time I got really, really stuck (not just fishtailing) was trying to get into my spot. The only car I almost hit was my neighbor's car. Fortunately, a new neighbor who was out shoveling brought some sand over and we cleared the light, fluffy snow. I made it! I'm home!!! I survived!!! I'm sure I'm not the only person who experienced this so I'm hoping everybody else made it safe and sound.