It's an odd thing, this snow Catch 22 we're in.
When we get a couple of inches, most people seem to panic and batten down the hatches in some sort of siege mentality. To be fair, I've not had a problem getting into or back from work over the other side of Birmingham at all this week.
In fact, when it was supposed to be really bad on Monday night / Tuesday morning, I found the roads were virtually empty, and whilst I had to drive slowly and carefully I managed to get home fractionally earlier than my usual rush-hour journey.
It probably helps that Birmingham's roads are usually covered in strata of diesel, curry-flavoured vomit, cigarette packets and chewing gum. Admittedly, it was exciting on the side roads (or should that be "slide roads") back at home, but the major routes were clear of proper snow and merely bordered with that dirty grey slush we're very good at here.
The thing is, we don't really get this sort of "extreme" (yeah, right) weather very often... all you Former Colonials and people who live in countries with proper weather have the resources to deal with these conditions - we don't: If we spent as much on keeping the roads clear as, say, Canada, we'd probably have to shut some hospitals or schools... just for something that happens once every five years.
We British love our shoddy excuses for not going to work almost as much as the French love theirs.