The novelty of snow is gone.
In the South, it doesn't snow much, then when it does, everyone panics in a gleeful way, and everything is shut down, and people cancel plans because it MIGHT COULD snow. They also say "might could." This is my seventh winter here, and I don't think it's snowed more than twice a season.
Until this fucking year. And you know, just the other night, I was waiting to be let in to the Fort Knox that is Ned's apartment, and I formed the thought, "Maybe this time will be the last time I stand here and I'm horridly cold, for the rest of the year. Maybe I will not have to stand in the horrid cold again." I thought that because it was late February, my daffodils were up, and in this region of the country it warms up about now.
Then yesterday we had an ice storm. In the immortal words of Walt Whitman, Fucking fuck.
I got a check in the mail yesterday that I really needed to deposit, lest everything in my account bounce like a banshee. What do you mean, not everyone lives this way? My point is, I did Tracy Chapman workout, which was a mistake because I have a cold but I was HAUNTED by all I'd eaten at that Oscar party. I'd have eaten Oscar if Felix had let him show up.
Anyway, then I wrote my Purple Clover article for next week, which is all about sex so I wrote it under a pseudonym so that I don't get Googled and fired by my employer or never hired for any other job I may be looking for, and really it's not THAT racy but you can't be too careful.
My point is, is was after 9:00 by the time I headed to my car to deposit that check, and one could argue that I coulda waited till today but today will be busy and I won't be home till after 8:00. I am training to teach adults how to read, because I thought well there's ONE thing I know how to do is read, so anyway off I went.
My entire walkway was nothing but glass. Then my door was actually frozen shut. I had to enter through the passenger door, and there is a sex joke or at least a Cesarean joke in here, but again I have a cold. And it's cold. There's a theme, here.
I grabbed the scraper and literally chiseled the ice off my windshield, then slid to the bank where of course I forgot my door was frozen shut, so I had to stand in the wind tunnel that was the drive-thru ATM of my bank. Now watch, the check will bounce.
What I am saying to you is,
Dear Winter. Stop it. Chillingly, June.
