Snow/ or The White Flakes of Death

Snow. I don't recall ever really liking it. Maybe for a winter or two between the ages of 8 and 10. But that is hardly significant enough to mention. There may have been some fun days of sledding back then, and I have distinct memories of digging tunnels through the quite high plowed snow in the lot next to our house (and, okay, that was pretty cool). But even with those few memories of joy amidst the white, powdery stuff, I mostly recall one thing: the cold.

Snow is really very cold. I suppose it has something to do with its being frozen and all. I don't like cold. At all. I find cold to be one of the most disagreeable things on earth, along with ingrown toenails and straight tequila. Cold is just not nice. Not only is snow cold, but its everywhere. I may not mind it so much if when it snowed, it just came down in specific patches so that not everything was completely drown in cold whiteness.

Along with getting everywhere else, it gets on my car. And around my car. Which requires me to brush off my vehicle and sometimes even shovel it out. Which requires me to be in the snow, and even get some on me. And then sometimes you're so stuck in your parking spot that you can't even get out of it without being rescued by some random guy that happened to be visiting a neighbor down the street (remember that, Becca?!). Then the roads become a disaster, all slushy and sloppy. Then, to make it all worse, it melts a little and then refreezes. This turns surfaces into ice skating rinks and then you get stuck and can't go anywhere. And I mean all surfaces, including my wooden front steps, which causes me to almost slip and fall and break something. Are we having fun yet?

I was recently told that I am now required to not hate snow, what with my having a niece and nephew and all. Apparently, children are brainwashed into liking snow. I don't understand that. Are they given visions of it in the womb and told that its fun to play in? Seriously! I can't think of any other explanation. I do refuse to like snow, though, and while I may be occasionally forced to make snowmen and snow angels and perhaps go sledding... but I will not succumb. I will not like it.

Tomorrow is promising to have the first real "weather" of the winter. I never understood why people call winter storms by the single word "weather." "We're going to have weather." When snow is described like that, its basically guaranteed to be bad. I'm not at all excited about the "weather". Or the snow. Or the ice. Its just not fun for me. The only good thing is that I may leave work early and finish my day out at home. I suppose that I shall have to make the best of it with working in my sweats while drinking tea and singing Christmas carols at the top of my lungs. Perhaps it will be a good day after all.