Man, it just figures that the snowiest winter in Philadelphia history is the winter that unemployment renders the glorious snow day meaningless for me. But I won’t be stopped from enjoying it, even if the snow has now piled up to the extent that our front door won’t open without significant force. Last night a bunch of us took to the steepest street in Conshohocken with an air mattress. The wig I was wearing was freezing to my face.