A week earlier, the forecast had already started wavering. What began as a prediction of sleet was upgraded to a blizzard, then softened to heavy snow, then light snow, and by Friday it had settled on heavy snow again.
When I got up that morning and looked out into the distance, the excavation site below the building was already covered in white. But the snowfall was still light, and the roads looked mostly clear. Snow wasn’t really sticking yet. I felt quietly relieved. It was Friday, and I needed to drive to my daughter’s school and bring her home. The trip is nearly 60 kilometers, and if the snow came down hard, that drive would become a real problem.
By early afternoon, though, the weather turned without warning. Snow began falling in thick, steady flakes, and before long there was visible accumulation on the roads. I checked the radar and it was obvious this wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. So I made the decision right away: leave early.
Fortunately, the expressway had not been shut down completely yet. Traffic restrictions were already in place for vehicles with more than seven seats and for trucks, but regular cars could still get through. Even so, the snow on the road had everyone driving carefully. I kept my speed to around 50 kilometers per hour the whole way. A trip of less than 60 kilometers took a full two hours.
I reached the school with some time still left before dismissal. By then the snow was only getting heavier. I quickly contacted my daughter’s homeroom teacher, explained the road conditions, and asked whether I could pick her up early. The teacher was understanding and agreed without hesitation. That was a huge relief. I got my daughter safely into the car.
The real test began on the way back.
Just as expected, the expressway had been fully closed by then, so we had no choice but to take the surface roads. With the traffic, the slippery pavement, and the constant stop-and-go, the drive turned into a crawl. Along the way we kept passing cars that had stalled after sliding, and others that had rear-ended one another. Under normal conditions, that route takes less than an hour. That afternoon it took us three and a half hours just to make it back near our residential complex.
I thought that after battling through the snow, we were finally at the last stretch. Instead, one more obstacle was waiting at the entrance.
A truck unloading construction materials for the underground garage was blocking the gate completely. What made it especially frustrating was that there had been no warning signs placed ahead of the entrance, and no notice from property management in the residents’ group chat either.
By then the snow had already piled up significantly. I had to reverse carefully, make my way back onto the main road, turn around ahead, and loop all the way to another entrance. If there had been any advance notice, I could simply have turned earlier and gone in through the other gate. Because of that detour, we lost another twenty minutes.
At that point my irritation boiled over, and I went straight into the property management group chat to vent. Only after that did they finally send out a belated message: The north gate is blocked for unloading. Please enter through the west gate.
Once I calmed down, I had to admit that I probably didn’t need to get quite that angry. The most important thing was that I had picked up my daughter and brought her home safely.
Maybe I still don’t have enough self-control. When things go wrong, it’s still easy for frustration to take over.
But that day was a reminder all the same. The weather can change its mind at any moment, and even the simple act of getting home can turn into a winding, difficult trip. In the face of that kind of uncertainty, staying steady and not losing your head may be the hardest practice of all.