Hellidays - When Bad Holidays Happen To Good People

It was either 1991 or 1992 in Chicago. A very sudden (and totally unpredicted) blizzard whirled up on Valentine's Day. It had been balmy, almost 60 degrees for a couple of days beforehand, so I just had a light jacket and regular shoes on. By the time work ended, there was about a 14 inches of snow, all of which had fallen in about 5 hours. The city was virtually shut down. Everyone who couldn't catch a bus or taxi took to the trains.Needless to say, the wait was excruciating. After about two hours, I finally got a train. Then, I had to walk the six blocks home. OMG!!!!!!!! It was freakin' bitter cold and I could barely get through the drifts. By the time I got home, my scantily shod feet were literally encased in several inches of ice. I immediately crawled into bed. Alone. And that was my Valentine's Day.