Christmas Eve was wet and gray, with lakes of slush pooling at every street corner making foot travel a pain. By Christmas Day, the temperature had dropped significantly, causing all the little lakes to freeze over and thus become easily passable.
By Friday morning, though, the situation had gotten infinitely worse. Again.
Overnight, temperatures had gone up, and freezing rain had come down. Sidewalks, streets and parked cars had been covered with a thin, slick layer of ice. Walking in the street was little help, since side streets had yet to be salted. (The main drags were pretty clear, though--the city should get credit for that much, at least.)
I had planned to get to work early to catch up on whatever was left over at the end of Tuesday, but getting to the train station was a slow, meticulous glass dance--I barely lifted my feet the whole way there. Once there, I found that the CTA had salted either side of the platform, but not the middle. Walk there at your own peril.
At least my station had some salt (or whatever the hell that sand-like substance that they ladle on the planks is supposed to be) spread on it. Other stations closer to downtown had nothing but ice and the cold, shuffling feet of commuters on them. I still got to work early (and thus will leave early as well), but it's a day that would have been much better spent watching it from the living room of La Casa del Terror, calico kitty at my feet and mug of something warm in my paws.
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