Snow Day

This is what I woke up to:

And it’s only gone downhill from there.  I can hear the building maintenance workers shoveling the sidewalk every hour or so, but it’s not like you can tell. *snuggles back in bed*

2015 Winter Storm Juno

Image from weather report on

It’s not like I’ve never dealt with snowstorms before–I spent most of the last 8 years in Michigan, so I know snow and I know snow. I mean, I even have different coats, boots and gloves depending what kind of winter I’m dealing with (cold, windy, snowy, or all three).

But for some reason, my first blizzard on the east coast seems so much more…intense. Maybe because the population is so much denser over here? My work starts sending warnings about early closure/full on closure the early the night before, snow and blizzard specific ads started playing over the TV and radio this weekend, and I just saw on the news that it is considered a crime to be on certain highways right now and the governor himself telling people to stay off the roads.

This time last year, Id gotten a nasty gram (masking as a general announcement) that people shouldn’t decide to work from home just because they couldn’t see more than a mile and was stuck in their driveway because of the foot of densely packed snow covering it and the roads. Buck up, people. What? So you got stuck halfway to work and was afraid you’ll crash? Wow. Uh. Well. Come in anyway. Gotta be a team player, you know.

Obviously, I prefer the east coast way of doing things, even if i don’t have a garage this year and am really not looking forward to eventually digging out my car.

Snow Rage

I hate you :(

I hate you 😦

Do you get Snow Rage? Not even sure that is a thing, but I am certainly feeling it. Shoveling the driveway is fast becoming my most hated household task, even worse than vacuuming and cleaning the hair out of my bathroom sink plug. (Seriously, that was nasty. What the heck were the previous tenants doing? Stuffing Furbies down the drain?)

I think it’s because the work feels Sisyphean. I shovel. It snows. I shovel again. It snows. I shovel again and it starts snowing before I finish. It’s never ending, and it doesn’t help that the snowplow has decided to pile up all the snow from the street at the end of my driveway, in this huge icy rock mound thing that is slowly consuming the rest of my driveway in a ravenous bid to ensure that I never leave the house again (wait, maybe that’s not so bad). Every morning is a study in trigonometry and geometry as I endeavor to swing my car into the one angle that doesn’t back me into this snow monster and lets me into the street. I don’t even have space to put my garage cans anymore—this week I just took the bags out and piled them by the mailbox.

Yesterday, in a fit of pique, I grabbed my shovel and hacked at the snow mound like I was rather clumsy and inept knight trying to slay a dragon. I managed to chip off a sad, sad chunk that was promptly replaced by the additional 4 inches we got last night.

I think it laughed at me.