Well, the ice storm turned out to be a fizzle. There was a little ice, but nothing spectacular and nothing dangerous. I won't exactly say phooey, but it's close. At any rate, getting to work was uneventful. Being at work was not, because I had things to do almost all day. It was nice. I feel so much better when I feel like I'm contributing something. And I've discovered that when I feel I'm being useful at work, I'm happy. I don't need to be doing something extremely worthwhile (technical sales? Give me a break) or beneficial to mankind or exercising most of my brain. As long as I feel competent and useful, I'm content. Well, and if I have reasonably competent management and decent company policies.
I always figured I'd get to this point in my life and psyche eventually, where my ambition would finally quiet and I'd be okay with plodding my way through ordinary life. Everyone does it, after all, and I don't know that I believe so many skilled, intelligent people could live the proverbial life of quiet desperation without protest. It would probably be harder to content me if I didn't have other things that I do consider worthwhile and brain-exercising (or at least skill-developing) that I'm also quite involved in. Also--to be honest--if I didn't have the prospect of starting a new family. That figures into things way more than it used to, and--along with nagging my SO, going on cleaning binges, and cooking without measuring--helps to prove I am rapidly turning into my mother.