Life throws you some curves.

Today when I woke, the temperature was down to -15 degrees, with a wind chill of -40. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a wind chill that low, and if I had, it was decades ago.

So for the third time this week, I’ve called off work.

The other two times felt right. They were talking blizzard, blowing snow. Not only did it not feel safe, it seemed really, really unwise.

Today? It still does feel unsafe, but I’m doubting my decision.

All I can think of is a fall I had outside last week. I wasn’t hurt, I bounced back well and good. But I could have done myself an injury.

The roads are slick. Accidents happen to even the most careful driver. I can’t tell you how many winter’s I’ve been out and there are cars and trucks off roads.

They say you can get frostbite out in this cold in less than ten minutes. I’ve got good winter clothes to fall back on, but even those go only so far.

My commute to work on good days is something like 19 minutes. That’s a long ways to go. And I know some people do it. I just don’t want to risk it.

Ten years ago I might have done it. Maybe even five. But I’m not that young.

I feel very chicken calling in. I feel like I might be risking a good job. But my gut says stay home and inside. It also says most people will, and they won’t need me quite as bad as a normal day.

We’ll see what happens. If I lose this job, I lose this job. I really don’t think I will–I’ve been given complements so far during my time there–but what will be, will be.