I recently interviewed for a job in a city that is about two and a half hours away.
It was snowing slightly when I left, so I prepared to be stuck overnight–well, sorta . . .
I took 3 pairs of shoes (sneakers for driving, boots for walking in snow drifts, and dress shoes for the interview), two books (just in case I finished reading one of them) 3 favorite Christmas CDS–plus a rack of CDs I really ought to remove from my car, 2 bottles of sweetened fizzy water, 5 copies of my resume, 2 sets of directions for how to get to the interview, 1 atlas, 1 scarf, 1 pair earmuffs, 1 pair gloves, 1 purse (just large enough for 1 cell phone, 1 wallet, 1 set car keys, and 1 small package of Kleenex).
What I didn’t take and later wished I had–toiletries, and a change of clothes–even just a change of underwear.
I seriously considered spending the night somewhere along the way–possibly even without actually doing the interview. Lack of clothes and toiletries wouldn’t have stopped me, but the weather was starting to improve when I finally had the opportunity to get off the highway. So I said a quick, quiet, eyes-open prayer and kept going. (It would have driven me bonkers to be less than 20 miles from the interview site and unable to get there. On the other hand, as I told my mother, the worst part of the evening was not in fact the interview. It was the feeling one gets when sitting next to the highway waiting for a break in traffic. Next to and almost perpendicular from the perspective of the MEDIAN. Shortly after I spotted the No U-turns sign, a nice (but terribly young) highway patrolman or equivalent stopped by me. We each rolled down our windows, and I explained that I was fine, my car was fine, I just wasn’t on the road at the moment. And, to the best of my knowledge, the same could be said for the car behind me–except that I had only myself to blame for failing to see the edge of the roadway, and the driver behind me had presumably followed my taillights off the edge of the road. It could have been a lot worse. I could have driven off the edge of the road someplace a lot less level and been unable to get myself back onto the road. Or I could have hit something. I didn’t.
Fortunately, when the time came to leave the interview, the worst of the roads were the city streets. Once I hit the highway, things were clear and dry. Kind of freaky though–at 5 or 6 pm, the snow was so heavy that I was going 20mph or less on a 65 mph highway–and still couldn’t see well enough to stay on the road (I drove as fast as I did because I’m paranoid of getting hit from behind.) But the highway advisory radio never acknowledged any snow that far east. And 3 or 4 hours later, the roads were as clear as if it hadn’t snowed in a week.