French Toast Alert System

We’re going to get slammed tomorrow. I am trying to get a consensus on the snowfall projections. It looks like it’s either 12-18″, 18-24″, or more than 24 inches. Two feet. Crap.

In other words, it’s a Five French Toast Slices storm.

Someone at work today asked if we all had our French Toast supplies (eggs, milk, bread). Someone else sent a link to the French Toast Alert System. I am overwhelmed with glee over having this in my life now.

The site has a storm alert rating based on slices of French Toast:

Tomorrow’s storm is waffling between 4 slices and 5 slices. Either way, Harvey Leonard is happy, and old ladies are getting run over in the supermarket milk section.

It’s chaos out there, and it hasn’t even started yet.

Hold on to your butts, kids.

Storm’s a Comin’

Is everyone ready? New England is going to get meteorologically bitch slapped tomorrow. Well, starting sometime tonight, I think. The National Weather Service is saying my area is going to get 18-24″ of snow. WCVB TV (our local ABC affiliate) says we’re in for 24″+. I don’t like the sound of either of those. Also, the words “bomb cyclone” have been written. I don’t know what that means, but it doesn’t sound good, right?

It’s supposed to start overnight tonight and carry through until Sunday morning. Here’s hoping we can book a plow to come and at least slice off the snow bank at the end of the driveway. Now I know I have been working out for four whole days and should be able to easily move a mountain of snow (#sarcasm) but I just don’t want to. Fingers crossed on the plow. We won’t be able to book anything until tomorrow, but we’re hoping to get one for Sunday morning sometime.

In New England it is common for citizens to make a run on the grocery stores in the day prior to a forecast storm. Unfortunately for us, today is the day that we would be getting groceries even without the storm, so we’re likely going to get shut out. We’re still in Covid mode as far as shopping is concerned and we’ve been using instacart, but they aren’t guaranteeing delivery times for today. Oh well. We’ll survive.

The planned rewiring of the dining room light switches might be paused until the driveway is clear. Just in case, you know? The Paramedics are going to have enough trouble hauling my electrocuted ass out that we shouldn’t make it worse for them by asking them to carry me through snow too.

Duck and cover, boys and girls. The Bomb Cyclone is a comin’.