I don't know why, but I was just thinking about that wonderful commute nearly 3 years ago today as I sit across the table from my now-born almost-three-year-old drinking hot chocolate after playing in the snow with his sibs (the one that was hanging out with me for the whole 5.5 hour trek home, wondering when the next meal would come). Perhaps it's because I had to work today despite the expected snowfall, triggering a certain PTSD-esque reaction in me, causing me to 1) go to work extra early to hopefully exit early; 2) wear my warmest sweater in case of being stranded in my car in some ditch (but heat stroke-inducing indoors, alas); 3) bringing extra food/rations in case of strandedness/5.5 hour commute/other unforeseen snow-related catastrophe; 4) staring plainly and forlornly out the window while at work every 5 minutes, sizing up the risk of the aforementioned.
Thankfully, the drive home was uneventful. I had 98% visibility out my windshield. I only witnessed one minor accident. I had a fullish tank of gas. There were no gas station sociopaths. Only a few invincible speedy cars (there must be a correlation with HVAC repair vans and reckless driving in snow) that caused minor annoyance. All in all, a good snowy commute. It's all relative.