Low Rider.

This was a big kick in the snow pants for all of us.  On the first day of Spring, we got a big fatty fat enormous snowstorm.  SERIOUSLY.  No, really.  SERIOUSLY!? Yes.

During the days leading up to weather's cruel joke, of course, the news director, management, etc screeched with the excitement of giddy little school girls. I mean, this was like Christmas in March. Santa brought them some snowflakes AND panicked viewers tuning in to watch our news coverage of snowmageddon. Hello Ratings! (I'm currently doing the *raise the roof* motion.  LOVE talking about ratings.)

Management excitement=lots of "hey you people in the cubicles" emails, letting us know when we'd all be called in to work an extra weekend shift.  Meaning, we'll be doing live shots for 8 hours while hail pelts our faces and the cold threatens frostbite and amputation of yet another limb.

Listen.  I understand. This is part of the *the business*. It makes our jobs exciting, changing everyday.  That's great.   But this weekend, I had PLANS.  Yes. This lowly cubicle dweller had something planned that didn't include work.

So, when I found out there was a good chance that wasn't gonna happen, well, I did what any respectable reporter would do. Pout.  I would like to thank my cubicle neighbor and fellow *low rider* F-dub for showing me the correct way to avoid all eye contact in the newsroom:

Real mature. I know.