That's actually not in jest. The snow is beautiful, but it's also a major pain in the arse. I woke up this morning around 1am (bathroom break? Greg House pawing at my face? Hunger pangs?) to find that no snow had fallen. Same thing when I woke up again at 3am. I thought to myself, "Ha! Once again the weather forecasters made much ado about a whole lotta nothing!"
Then Greg House, hunger pangs, and a need for a potty visit all woke me up at 4am, at which point I looked out the window to see the snow--or rather, a sheet of snow--coming down. I was shocked how much had changed in an hour. I was also shocked at how hungry I was so early in the morning. But I threw Greg House in the basement, used the toilet and went back to bed. A half hour went by with no sleep. I gave up, headed to the basement to release the cat, fed him and made myself a bowl of cereal. I listened to the radio while I ate, cross-legged, in front of the space heater in my bedroom. I kept sneaking peaks out the window at the snow accumulation; it was building up so fast...I just decided not to worry about whether I'd be going to work or not today, but the idea of staying home and sleeping was so appealing.
With both our bellies full, House and I curled up for another couple hours of slumber. His motor rumbled deep in his chest, putting me into a fitful sleep. When the alarm went off two hours later, I was not ready to get up, particularly after I checked the snow's progression. I had to shovel that??? I turned over and slept another hour before finally getting up to start shovelling. After a nice hot shower, I put on my snow gear (ski pants and new snow boots) and headed outside to start the gruntwork. Immediately, Jack Frost blindsided me with not just snow, but sleet hitting me square in the eyes. I ducked my head down as I started shovelling, making extra scraping noises to ensure that my next-door neighbor would know that I was shovelling. We have a joint driveway with him, and for some reason, this dude (nice as he is) never helps with the shovelling. The last snowfall gave us about 5 inches, and I had to shovel our long, long driveway all by my lonesome. So, this morning, I decided that he would help me. I was about 30 minutes in, resentful and aching, and nearing the end of the driveway when he popped out of his house. When I saw him start his car, I thought, "no he didn't!", assuming he was going to drive out over my newly shovelled driveway without helping. But he was just warming his car up, and ended up grabbing his shovel to help me finish up. He even offered to shovel my sidewalk for me, but I was already starting so I just finished. Maybe he'll be a little better about helping me out in the future, especially as I start getting bigger and less agile.
The drive to work was torturous. I should've kept my butt at home, but I wanted the hours in at work, so I braved the as-predicted-unplowed roads of Michigan. I almost had an accident with a car coming up behind me as I tried to swerve to avoid hitting a snowbank that had been left in the lefthand lane of traffic. I stopped at Panera to treat myself to breakfast (I deserved it, after all) and felt the icy beads pelting my face as I came back out to my car. Finally made it to work to find two of my coworkers in; my boss and a few other people stayed at home today. I should've taken their lead.
So here I am, trying to decide how long I'm actually going to stay in this office with near white-out conditions outside my window. The storm isn't supposed to end until this evening, and I really don't want to be caught in rush-hour traffic in poor weather and road conditions. Oh yea, and I'm supposed to go home, make a pot of chili and head over to a work Christmas party this evening.
Oh, what a night, late December, back in 2008...
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