A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about the difficulties I had traveling home for Christmas.
When I came back to Minnesota, things got worse: We were traveling into a blizzard.
Last Sunday rolled around, and our alarm went off before 3 a.m., meaning it was time to finish packing up our stuff and get in the Uber to travel an hour and 15 minutes north from my parents’ house in Warwick, R.I., to Logan Airport in Boston.