Drive home averaged 45 but I was nervous about it, mainly because of the retards who thought they could go 60.
Got home, didn't even go inside before firing up the snowblower and clearing the driveway. That'll make Mrs. Fungus happy; she shouldn't have to fight too hard to get her car in.
Around 2-ish I sent a text to Mrs. Fungus: "I'm sitting here watching I-88 grind to a halt." I can see I-88 from my desk if I lean back in my chair, and I had very few calls and e-mails to deal with today. More than yesterday, oddly enough, but after about 5 PM the place went silent and I found myself wishing I could do something constructive.
Yep, there she is, and she made it. Not bad.