It’s Snow, Neil

With my first foot outside JFK Airport, I slip. There’s a patch of slick ice just outside the terminal door, and it almost sends me hurtling into oncoming traffic.
The storm is passed, the sun is glaring off 2 feet of freshly fallen snow. It’s hanging off trees, but it’s not melting, because it’s still well below freezing outside. Most cars along the Long Island Expressway are driving with a couple of inches on the top of their cars, and sending chunks of white smacking into the car behind each time they hit a bump.
So, hitting New York 14 hours late leaves me with a few options; I can go straight to work (after 40 hours travel?), or try to get a few hours sleep and start the jet lag recovery. I’ll go for the sleep, I think.