Life in the Boomer Lane doesn't know which makes her more giddy with excitement, the Trump and Palin love fest (LBL prefers to refer to the union as "Tralin'") or the fact that she has chosen this very week to be in Hawaii and thereby avoid the massive "Blizzard of a Lifetime" that is choking the DC area. She is keeping track of the storm from sunny Kona, and is aware that no food is left in the supermarkets, with the exception of frozen anchovy nuggets.
LBL's cell phone has been the recipient of numerous texts/photos/emails, in which loyal friends have documented lines wrapped around the block to get into food stores. Her neighborhood listserv has been flooded with requests for snow boots, personal snow plows, and hazmat suits.
One resident informed evetryone that the manager of the nighborhood supermarket told her that the store would stay open 24/7 throughout the weather holocaust. The neighbor noted that "This is unfortunate for employees, but it means we can walk to the store for food!" LBL knows that all neighbors have already stocked up with at least a month's supply of food, so she isn't sure what emergency would arise that would necessitate an emergency trip to the store ("Darling! We forgot to stock an ample supply of aerosole cheese snack! Please pick up whatever is left!")
As for the poor employees, LBL imagines them manning their stations throught the night and taking cat naps on flattened cardboard boxes, somewhere in the recesses of the store.
Now Husband, who did not accompany LBL to Hawaii, has informed LBL the he has cooked a large vat of bean soup and has stocked an adequate supply of alcohol. LBL expects him to ride out the storm as a flatulating drunk.
He has also started to send LBL emails about available mobile homes in scenic parts of Florida. LBL suspects that by the time she returns, she and NH will be the proud owners of a single-wide aluminum structure in an over-55 community that runs a near-zero risk of ever experiencing snow.
LBL will now get back to the difficult task at hand of slogging her way to the beach and scoring a small, charming ocean-front cabana. She has laid in adequate supplies: her room key, her cell phone, her Kindle, and sunscreen. It's not as easy as one might imagine. Like being caught in a blizzard, even with supplies at hand, she runs the risk of succumbing to the forces of nature and remaining there forever.