6 am: Every tick of the clock signifies another moment lost, buried beneath the snow and ice, hold-up in our home in Georgia. At least we are together and warm, I tell myself. At least we have cheese. But after 4 days, a stunning revelation has emerged: even cheese is not enough. And I’m troubled by the thoughts that haunt me … worried that we may plummet to depths, the likes of which, this family has never seen.
7:15 am: The disturbing behavior of my cabin mates gives pause to the thought that they, like me, may be on the verge of utter madness. I must keep a close eye on the small one. He appears to be up to something, coming in and out of the house with sharp icicles, pretending to harbor pride over the size of each one. But will he use them against us … or ME … his mother?! I’m careful to admire the icicles as they glisten in the light so as not to upset him … but I’m watching out of the corner of my eye for any sudden movement.
9:32 am: Found my larger cabin mate pilfering about in the kitchen claiming to be looking for another “coffee pod.” I think the truth is something far more sinister, for he NEVER has a second cup at home. I believe he’s plotting something and may have aligned himself with the small one. They’ll be growing hungry soon … I must prepare myself for whatever comes next … even if they turn against me. I must try to save this family!
12:47 pm: As predicted, lunch time is slowly bringing a level of angst to the males of my group in spite of the fact that the snow is, indeed, MELTING. It appears they’ve turned a certain measure of expectation toward ME to provide sustenance beyond grilled cheese sandwiches. Being snow-bound has caused a discernible deterioration in my culinary faculties … yet I fear that if I fail them, they may resort to something so dark that I cannot survive the evil. I MUST think! THINK! What else can I do with this bless-ed cheese! There must be something!! I’ll send the small one outside for some fresh air so I can work without distraction.
1:15 pm: The small one returned hungry from “playing” in the slushy snow. The large one has taken a break from his “work” on his computer. I’ve contemplated the thought that they may be using some sort of telepathy to communicate. I’ve managed to convince them that sustenance is coming – at least enough to keep them settled for the time being. The small one has insisted that tomato sauce out of a can will provide him the nourishment he needs. But I don’t trust him with the sharp lid once it’s removed. The tall one remains stoic, but I’m not easily fooled. He’s tapped his cheese-tolerance, anxiously combing the pantry for something more … I fear he will snap like a mouse trap when he sees the paltry offerings. Then what?! My confidence in his ability to remain sane is waning. I feel his clouds rolling in. He is on the brink. As am I.
3:45 pm: They’ll never find me here! I’ve been hiding in the back of my closet for almost 3 hours. I know I must escape and find a non-cheese food product lest the madness overcome us all. I’ve contemplated the worst: Baking a mixture of the remaining cheddar and the last of the prune jam at 350 degrees until golden brown. What I wouldn’t give for just 1 can of Spam …
No wait! That would be worse.
5:02 pm: I’ve not heard a sound in hours but I can hear the snow continuing to melt. Perhaps the males have devoured one another? Maybe the tall one overtook the small one and is lying in wait. Either way, I remain alone … here in this closet … wondering how we could have ever anticipated JOY in this snow storm to begin with. Georgians are not prepared for such an event. I was not prepared. Next time, (if there IS a next time) I will take another course.
In the meantime, I’m left to consider my present circumstances … cheeseless, Spamless, hungry and alone in this cold closet fearing I’ve lost my family in this snowy madness.