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Scratch that. People are idiots all on their own. Snow just helps to illustrate how idiotic they are. So I get up and its friday morning, luckily, because the prospect of spending more than one more consecutive day at my as of late spirit crushingly boring job makes me want to cut up my organs into bite size chunks and feed them to a macaque, and its snowing outside. Not only is it snowing, but it had apparently been snowing for approximately 30 years, as was evident by the mountain of snow already on the ground. So I, as I said before, get up, and see the stomach rupturing scene, and envision the hell of commuting to work and immediately fall asleep for several more hours. But eventually I get up for real, after it becomes really obscene for me to stay in bed any longer and begin what was destined to be, the shittiest day ever. I carefully dress, as always in a shirt and tie, even though my job does not require me to wear shirt and tie, for the sole reason that it makes me feel as if I'm actually going to work, rather than to shoot a dockers commercial. Anyway, after carefully dressing, I carefully forego breakfast in favor of starting the car, which as I imagined, was buried in the fruits of the devil. As I'm making my way towards the car, it dawns on me that not only is there snow all over the car, but also, as luck would have it, the ground. About 5 inches of snow, which was at the time seeping in to my overpriced shoes and damping my delicately cuffed pant legs, as well as my spirits, which were already somewhat damp. The spirits, not the pant legs. At this point I decided that it would be beneficial to go in and change entirely into some facimile of a lumberjack's uniform, but instead opted for the less ambitious outfit consisting of the same exact thing I'd previously had on, plus boots. Making my way back out to the car, I discover that the rolling of my delicately cuffed pant legs was not so much staying rolled, but inconveniently unrolling, exposing said delicate cuffing to said wet, cold, mood altering snow. What did I do, you say, to protect the delcately cuffed pants? Well what any other self respecting, staunchly heterosexual male would have done....I pulled my pants up to my knees and squeezed my legs together to hold them up. So now I'm waddling around the car with an oversize snow scraper/brush aparatus, with my pants clenched between my knees like some sort of disabled penguin. From this point on, having already solved the wet pants/shoes problem (did I mention I'm an engineer?) it was just a matter of clearing the gaddamn snow off my piece of shit, beater car. This proved to be a much more difficult task then you might expect, though, because of the construction of the snow brush I was using, which by the way, was an employee appreciation day gift from the engineering firm I work at. So yeah, the main flaw in the brush was that it unscrewed to allow you to extend the pole...this seems like a good idea at first, but actually its the spawn of satan himself. This is because since the brush unscrews, every time you try to brush to the right, the brush unscrews and turns sideways leaving you brushing with the backside of the plastic brush housing. This means you can only brush from the left, and thus you are left with one hand clutched in an arthritic claw, since the other hand is busy trying to hold your pants up to your knees making it impossible for you to switch. However, I pressed on, and finally desnowed my vehicle, triumphantly, in just under four hours. Pretty good, huh? Well it doesn't stop there...oh no. Several minutes later, after redonning the overpriced shoes and unclenching my knees, finally I'm ready to disembark from the homestead. I began backing out of my driveway, which was still covered with snow, just as my neighbor across the street was backing out of his. I get halfway into the street and decided to wait for him, since he's proceeding backwards at an alarming rate with little or no regard for anything the might be in the road obstructing his way, namely me. SO once he gets to the end of his driveway, I start honking my horn, as is customary when you see an idiot on the road and get the feeling of impending doom. So honk I must, and do, for a good 20 seconds. And of course, he took the expected course of action of ignoring the honking and slamming into the back of my car. Very neighborly of him. Well, it all turned out all right, no real damage, and I know where he lives in case I need his insurance information. Or if I need to egg his house. However, it did set the tone for what went on to be a very shitty friday. By the way, its supposed to snow tomorrow too. I'm so excited, I just might vomit.
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