New Yorkers love to complain about everything -- particularly snow.
They carp about the slushy, dirty mess; the parked cars that are often snowed in; and the many sidewalks that are rarely shoveled.
Though it's hardly unknown here -- this is the Northeast, not the tropics -- we don't dress for it. Have you noticed all the people who trudge through several inches of snow and slush in sneakers? We feel entitled to our uninterrupted conveniences in any weather -- from takeout dinners to robust public transit.
When we're not kvetching about the snow, we're kvelling about the mayor's overreaction before the snowpocalypse that wasn't. Why did he close the schools? Why did the MTA shut down the subway? Is this a city of wimps?
That snowstorm completely upended my schedule -- and it was the best thing that could have happened to me. New Yorkers need the disruption of snow. After all, the pace of our lives is often absurd.
Just last week, I was supposed to be out three nights in a row -- a goodbye party for a longtime colleague, and two events that were parts of a job interview. Each of these events would have lasted three hours, and they would've come after a full day's work.
Because of the snowstorm, all were canceled. I got to stay in my warm home with my family and my cats. I also got more sleep because my son didn't have to get up early for the school bus. I still had to work -- I teach at CUNY and the semester began Thursday -- but the snowstorm slowed my life to a humane pace.
Don't get me wrong, for many low-wage workers and owners of small businesses, a snowstorm can be at least inconvenient, at worst ruinous. For the elderly and the disabled, it can be life-threatening. I really empathize with them, but I would not be at all sorry if this weekend's predicted snow causes me a few more inconveniences.
I'm sure many of my fellow New Yorkers are gearing up for an invigorating round of complaints. But if your life permits you to do so, perhaps you might instead welcome the slowdown.
Liza Featherstone lives and writes in Clinton Hill.