Snowquester Bumble.
If you’ve been following the national weather this week, then you know there’s been QUITE the hype about the Snowquester storm that was forecast for DC today.
(My sister doesn’t watch the news so her reaction to the word “Snowquester” was to say, “I may have to pop the cyanide tablet tonight,” followed by sharing this video, which I assume is her way of expressing disdain for named storms that she hasn’t heard of. It’s mildly effective.)
Anyway, I love a good storm, so I yesterday I started getting excited for the Snowquester. By which I mean: I bought a bunch of toilet paper and used Facebook to encourage other snow-fans to do the Snow Shake to guarantee the storm’s arrival.
“Start doing your snow dance,” I commanded whenever someone indicated they were even marginally excited about the storm. “Stop typing and start shaking!” I’d admonish.
Of course, when I cast an eye on Facebook during the work day, it’s usually to give myself a two-minute mental break or multi-task while I’m waiting for a conference call to start. In other words: I’m not fully paying attention.
And so this is how it came to pass that I zipped into Facebook and misread my friend’s status:
Tomorrow is not promised to anyone. #HeavyHeart
I was distracted and thinking about the snow forecast when I read this. Also in my defense, her previous posts had been excitedly discussing the Snowquester, so I skimmed this status and thought its gist was, “They revised the forecast! That sucks!”
Please tell me you can see how I arrived at that interpretation.
Even worse, not only did I skim her status, but – always amusing myself – I felt compelled to comment:
Nonononono! I guess you didn’t dance hard enough!!!!
And because I had things to do, I went back to work.
It wasn’t until the end of the day that I went back to Facebook and saw that TONS of people had jumped on that thread. At first, I thought her friend-base was entirely pro-storm. And then I read their comments, which said things like, “Hugs,” or “Sorry for your loss!” and I realized I needed to re-read her original post.
Oh yes. Now I see: Someone has died. Gulp.
Well, whatever your grief is, I’m glad I could momentarily divert it by suggesting that you actually killed the person by not dancing hard enough.
Turns out, maybe I’m a storm that needs a name? I think we can cross “Sensitive” off the list.
pithypants 