Michael has not, in fact, already gone to work, because he's found it pointless to do so. One look out the window had made him skeptical, and sure enough, he could barely get the front door of the apartment building open for all the snow. Phoneless, he'd had to wake up a neighbor in order to call the office. No one had been there to answer. He should probably try and go over there, just to be sure—the last thing he needs to do is give them any reason to shit on him—but if Joan's not around, it's gotta be the apocalypse.
Well, he's not complaining. A week's worth of having to work full time and rebuild his life simultaneously has been harrowing. Despite his fatigue, he hasn't managed to sleep much, and when he does fall asleep he's plagued by strange nightmares. Having Lee there last night helped. Getting back into bed with her sounds glorious.
He discovers her buried completely under the covers, which is adorable. Probably woke up and fell asleep again. Michael takes off his coat and hat and work clothes, leaving them all in a heap on the floor, and puts his pajama pants back on. It's ridiculously warm beneath the sheets when he slides in next to Lee; he huffs a sigh through his nose and wraps an arm around her. Only the top of his hair is peeking out into the open air.