You Asked For It: In which we await Chapel Hill’s future as the ice planet, Hoth.

Drew Goins (who didn’t know about the impending frozen precipitation until two hours before our deadline) and Kelsey Weekman (whose mom tweeted a handy list of snow survival tips at her, so she’s all set) are the advice columnists of “You Asked for It.” Results may vary.

You: What happens if it snows in Chapel Hill?

YAFI: In case you haven’t learned from anyone and everyone’s small talk already, snow days throw the state of North Carolina into total anarchy.

It’s not all disrupting the macro-level social systems and attending readings at Internationalist Books, though. You need a plan.

Make sure you are completely stocked up on food. Expect to be run over by a mom with a stroller who is likely already panicking because it’s too cold outside for a tennis skirt or even a velour jumpsuit.

If you’re not in the mood to take on Jenn or Jan or Debbie or whatever, slide into the dining hall before the looters get to the brownies that aren’t vegan.

Fashion yourself a homemade sled. Use whatever you have just lying around — plastic bin lids, mattresses and still shrink-wrapped econ textbooks.

If you’re not one for outdoor sports, take the day to catch up on work or watch that Netflix “expose” about Chipotle that we’ve all talked about but no one has actually dared to watch.

You: What happens if it doesn’t snow in Chapel Hill after I assumed it would?

YAFI: If you were banking on snow, or snow-banking as dads would say, a false alarm will make you feel colder than that girl who dressed like He’s Not Here is an indoor bar.

Don’t miss class. You’re not afraid of snowy conditions; you’re tougher than the Duke basketball team. There will surely be someone humming that stupid snowman song from Frozen, but stay strong. Conceal, don’t feel. Don’t let them know.

You didn’t do your homework, did you? No one did. Just will yourself to be invisible, a feat often attempted in Friday recitations regardless of weather.

If your invisibility cloak isn’t winter weather friendly, fake it until you make it. If Hollywood can convince us all that a book of Twilight fan fiction is the pinnacle of modern romance, you can convince your professor that you read 35 pages about agrarian life in the early 1800s.

Steer clear of any special events an optimistic RA might have planned. You can’t technically make snow cream if you’re just using ice that solidified on the railing.

Above all, be grateful that in the lack of snow there is electricity. When the power goes out, so does the internet, taking with it our collective millennial life force.