Snomageddon

This is a mountain of snow in a parking lot by a bunch of stores. We are running out of places to put it all!

This is my deck, the view from my front door. This was two storms ago, a.k.a. a week and half ago.

This final one is a front loader thing that is moving snow from one place to another to make room for more! This one was nice enough to drop a big chunk, which promptly got stuck under my car and was dragged for a few feet like I had run over a puppy. It left a nice smell, too.

I feel super old and boring because all I can talk about or even think about is the weather. It's seriously like Narnia here on the East Coast. Because I have not gone to work for five consecutive days in as long as I can remember, due to so many snow storms, I actually tried to go in today. After 45 minutes and only 8 miles, not even half way to the office, I slid and stopped to bang my windshield wipers a few times and turned back for home. Even that was so bad that I started preserving the water left in my water bottle in case I couldn't make it home and had to live in my car, with only the junk I haven't cleaned out to sustain me.

Weather banter is becoming a normative past time at this point. On the news, it seems the criminals are all stuck in a snow bank because all that is being shown are pictures of cars driving in this mess. On facebook, most locals are commenting on the snow somehow. Some take the tough stance with statements like "It's snowing. Get over it!" or things akin to that. Others are still excited to see snow. It's novelty has worn off so I am really impressed by their enthusiasm. It's like being excited to see a live animal at a zoo. A final grouping of comments reflect the the frustration with the repetition. I fall into this category.

I'm sick of watching the weather person on the news and feeling as if he or she is the most important person I will hear from all week. I'm sick of playing roulette every time I pull out my street; the snow banks on the corners are so high I can't see a thing coming and often just have to hope for the best as I pull into traffic. I'm sick of people honking to take right turns in the right hand lane, as if that still exists. It has been obliterated by piles of dirty white stuff and has made my already long, grump-inducing commute a real trial of faith in terms of loving my fellow man.

Beyond the narrative about the weather, a few humorous anecdotes have sprung up about it, as well. There are a number of photos that show the usual state weather map the weather person shows, though instead of having numbers of inches of snow accumulation, they now have categories of misery the residents will endure. I saw one that rated people on how "screwed" they would be from the latest storm. Another recommended certain areas to buy boats and other areas to hit the liquor store to drown their sorrows. One of the local news channels, instead of just giving the numbers of how much snow we have received so far this year, is keeping a "Shaq-o-meter", a tribute to the Celtics' recent acquisition of Shaquille O'Neil. I think he will be figuratively buried by the end of tomorrow, as the snow amounts top his height on the figure. This idea would be cuter if it didn't inspire Shaq to make a guest appearance in one of my dreams this week. I am easily influenced.

I don't know what the overall amount of snow is, to be precise. It was over 60 inches so far last week, after that week's storm. This week's two day Snowmaggedon is going to gift us with another 16-20 inches. Roofs are collapsing like teenage girls at a Justin Bieber concert. I am spending a lot of quality time with my couch. I am going to go look at pictures of summer now...