No doubt you think I spent my entire day snuggled under blankets, reading through my TBR pile. Nay, I spent the day bravely selling books to cabin-fevered populace that was unencumbered by work duties. Because DC during snow reminds me of Pandemic 2:
Ok, granted, this time it was probably necessary, because I opened my door and saw this:
And then I stepped off my porch and sank to my knees. After 20 minutes of trudging that reminded me of the Fellowship attempting to cross the Caradhras pass, I made it to work.
Three intrepid coworkers and a dog arrived half an hour later (no, not in a boat), and then this guy showed up:
A police car honked at him, but since said police car was stuck in a snow drift, no further action was taken.
In any case, armed with some shady coffee (‘I’m a bookseller, Jim, not a barista’), a shovel, and an excited German shepherd, we opened. This pretty much sums up the day:
It was great. I learned some things I had never done, mostly because there was time to learn them. We found out what a diet of pretty much only coffee and pastries (with some pizza thrown in) does to you. Some of us hiked to work from much farther than my own residence (there was no bus service). We sheltered many a wet, snow-covered puppy. Varied levels of incoherence were reached by the end of the day, all in the noble service of bookselling!
I am now home with two reading choices in front of me: The Girl With All the Gifts by M. R. Carey and Strange Bodies by Marcel Theroux.
But first, I’m going to go do some push-ups to work off this sugar high.