Being a native Californian, I'm eternally unprepared for winter and at the risk of sounding overdramatic, I am surprised I made it through this year in one piece. Boston was hit by blizzards at least once, if not twice, a week for over a month. We broke six feet of snow and set the record for most snowfall in one winter in the history of the city. It was a miserable, brutal series of months and maybe someday, we'll look back and laugh at Snowpocalypse 2k15. Speaking for myself, I'm still trying to shake off the PTSD. I'll be afraid to leave the house without my heavy-duty, dual layer coat for at least another month.
But for all of the bad, I was lucky enough to have some wonderful people trapped with me in the nightmare hellscape. My brothers and good friend were brave enough to venture from Southern California to visit me, plus I acquired a core group of folks I loved enough to get repeatedly snowed in with. I'm talking three days at a time, people. After that, I'm confident that we could make it through an actual apocalypse together.
Maybe it's just the hint of sun on the horizon, but I've come out of winter feeling rather lucky.