1. Supply of fruits. Preferably berries, bananas, grapes, apples, and pears. Good for smoothies, high-energy, antioxidant-rich breakfasts; skin cell re-generation is critical between January and May in preparation for 30th year reunion. Miracle Blur cream only does so much. Fruits can be eaten in whole, solid form if power is lost during the blizzard.
2. Batteries for radio. Lack of television would not be noticed. Lack of radio = disaster. What’s a day without my NPR friends? Soterios, James, Brian, Leonard, Terry? My girl Lakshmi keeping me up to speed with the news headlines? May be confined to condo with husband during the blizzard. No NPR = nothing to talk about = disaster.
3. Fully charged lap top. I hate reading online, but the blizzard may interrupt delivery of the New York Times and my New Yorker. That ****ing magazine is supposed to arrive on Mondays, not Tuesdays, nor Wednesdays. I should have contacted Customer Care again last week and complained in anticipation of the blizzard. There might have been hope that my New Yorker might arrive today, before the first fat flakes. Put on to-do list: Email Customer Care and complain about New Yorker delivery. Again.
4. Secret sugar stash. My treat tin is stocked with clearance Christmas candy, chocolate bar minis, and individual Laffy Taffies, fruit gels, and Sour Patch Kids. Tin location undisclosed, in case husband reads blog and we are confined to our condo during the blizzard. Crinkly wrappers = noise and possible discovery. Remember to unwrap candies when husband is in bathroom or sent to check the mailbox for delivery of the New Yorker.
5. Coffee. Roads and walkways may be impassable. Daily runs will likely be suspended indefinitely, as well as post-run coffee treat at Max’s corner deli. Max’s might be closed! Might be confined to condo and have to make coffee for self and husband. Indefinitely. Must buy more batteries for radio.
6. Bribe supply. Secret, undisclosed supply of husband’s favorite treats: mini Peanut Butter Cups, small stuffed peppers, mint chocolate chip ice cream. Husband has wine stock (red and white), fresh baked soda bread, and willingness to walk in the snow and cold to procure supplies. Indefinite confinement to condo = rapid deterioration of diplomatic relations. Must be prepared for possible necessary bartering and persuading.