They say there are five stages of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance) and the same is just about true for when a major snowstorm approaches a large metropolitan area.
Denial is when everyone quotes their favorite television meteorologist and dismisses the forecast given by "the guy (or lady) on the other station." There are those who stand by the words of Marty Bass or Tom Tasselmyer to the very end, and would not grab an umbrella if anyone else said it was fixin' to rain big time.
Anger is when it has snowed and the schools aren't closed. Or when the schools are closed, or traffic is backed up to Harrisburg, or the snowblower won't blow, or you can't find the shovel, or the boss still expects you in on time because you're the only one who knows where the K-Cups are locked up.
Bargaining is when you finally get the kids off to the bus stop with promises of mac and cheese the next seven nights, or when you find someone willing to let them hang around on a snow day, or when you get behind a snow plow on Perring Parkway and zip right up the road, or you make a deal with the kid up the block to shovel your driveway for a salary just short of what they pay Manny Machado, or when you finally get to work and find that Debbie from Accounting stopped at Draggin' Dognuts and brought in a Jumbo Java for everyone.
Depression is when the school closes early after all and there goes your personal leave time that you had saved, because you have to leave work for that, or when everyone comes home soaked and cranky, or when your windshield is cracked by a flying clod of salt, or when the kid up the block wants his money. Sure cure for depression is to remember it could be worse. You could have a Coldplay CD jammed into your CD player and that's all you can hear. Even worse, you could have a Coldplay CD.
Acceptance is when the roads are clear, the windshield is repaired, no one is seriously injured, the boss gives everyone a free day off for all the inconvenience, the kid up the street comes back and shovels the next little snow for free and you realize that the time Coldplay will be playing during the Super Bowl is only 11 1/2 minutes. And you can suffer through anything for that long! You've survived the Blizzard of '16!