Winterfreakingwonderland...

Here's how my day started yesterday:


Looked out my bedroom window at 4:55 a.m. right before I headed out for the office. My comment was, "Oh, shit."

Six inches of snow between my front door and my car parked on the street in front of my house. Almost ate it on the way down my front steps. Images of lying broken in the snow and freezing to death and having neighborhood wildlife nibbling on my frozen carcass made me press on. Waded through snow on my front lawn? sidewalk? street? whatever to get to my car. Tried to turn on windshield wipers but the weight of the snow made them stop halfway up. Started car that didn't want to start, revved engine a couple of times, cranked heat up to nuclear blast level. Got out of car and kinda swooshed snow off the windshield with the sleeves of my coat because I didn't have a snow brush thingie. Got back in car and tried to thaw hands out enough to grip steering wheel and thaw feet out enough to feel pedals. Put car in gear and pressed on gas, released clutch and kinda hoped for the best.

Drove 18 miles to work on major freeways, some of which had seen a snow plow at some point during the previous night. Almost ate it again when a school bus decided that its lane wasn't large enough and it needed some of mine too. Hit brakes and felt the stomach rumbling feeling of a little fishtailing down the freeway at 40 mph. Tried not to poop pants. Somewhat successful. Screamed obscenities at the unwitting bus driver about his lack of intelligence and questioned with what animals his parents mated. Did not feel better.

Reached parking garage and endured arctic blast when window rolled down to swipe entry card. Redressed myself in my hat, scarf, gloves, and overcoat before exiting vehicle. Almost ate it for the third time in less than 45 minutes on the snowy, icy walkway to elevator in garage. Images of lying broken and frozen in garage and having urban wildlife steal my boots and socks made me press on. Deciding whom I would sue first should I injure my big fat heinie on the concrete spurred me to keep going. Exited elevator and garage lobby to find another six inches of snow that had to be navigated between the garage and the Willis Tower...and IT WAS SNOWING AGAIN, DAMMIT. Stood at the corner, spitting wet, half frozen hair out of my mouth and slitting my eyes against the snowflakes that were slamming into my eyeballs like excrutiatingly cold grains of sand, and waited for the two different stoplights I had to negotiate to get into my building. Decided if I turned my head AWAY from the driving snow, my hair would still be a problem but at least I wasn't in any danger of going blind.

Finally, walked into building where the security personnel yelled a cheery, "Good morning!" at me before I even got my gloves, hat and scarf under control. Resisted impulse to tell them to go copulate with themselves.

Congratulated myself on the accomplishment of staying alive for another hour.

Winter Blues: Or Why I'm Late for Work...Again.

GOING TO WORK IN WINTER IN HOUSTON:


1. Two minutes to go time, put on jacket if it’s below 60 degrees.

2. Step out door of house.

3. Lock door.

4. Get in car and leave

5. Drive to office.

6. Arrive at garage and park car.

7. Lock car.

8. Enter building.

9. Remove jacket.

10. Arrive at office and begin work day.


GOING TO WORK IN WINTER IN CHICAGO:

1. Fifteen minutes to go time, pack office shoes to take to work with you.

2. Put on winter boots.

3. Put on jacket.

4. Put on overcoat.

5. Put on knit hat.

6. Put on gloves.

7. Put on scarf.

8. Decide you need to go to the bathroom.

9. Remove scarf.

10. Remove gloves.

11. Remove overcoat.

12. Go to the bathroom.

13. Re-don overcoat.

14. Re-don gloves.

15. Re-don scarf.

16. Go out to car.

17. Scrape snow and ice off of windshield enough to see out of a 6” x 6” square.

18. Enter vehicle and start.

19. Crank heater up hot enough to shoot flames from the vents.

20. Remove gloves.

21. Remove hat because you don’t want to look like a dork while you’re driving down the freeway.

22. Remove scarf for same reason.

23. Unbutton overcoat so you have a tiny bit of arm mobility.

24. Wait for at least 5 minutes for defrost to kick in enough for wipers to scrape more snow and ice off of windshield.

25. Drive to work.

26. One block from your house, realize you forgot to lock the door.

27. Drive back to house.

28. Lock door.

29. Get back in car and drive to work.

30. Arrive at garage and park car.

31. Rebutton overcoat.

32. Re-don hat.

33. Re-don scarf.

34. Re-don gloves.

35. Get out of car. Lock it and walk one block to work, shivering and freezing your heinie off all the way, while telling yourself that you’re so lucky to have this adventure.

36. Arrive at building.

37. Take off gloves and hat.

38. Smooth hair back into place.

39. Tuck gloves in overcoat pocket.

40. Tuck hat in other overcoat pocket.

41. Ride elevator up to office.

42. See hair in reflection in elevator and realize you look like a cartoon character only not funny.

43. Enter work area.

44. Remove scarf.

45. Remove overcoat.

46. Realize one of your gloves fell out of the pocket.

47. Walk back down hallway to elevator, looking for missing glove.

48. Take elevator back down to first floor of building.

49. Find glove on the floor in the middle of the lobby. Mumble, “There you are!” like you’re a crazy, homeless person.

50. Ride elevator back up to office.

51. Hang up overcoat.

52. Remove winter boots.

53. Take office shoes out of pack and put them on.

54. Realize you have shoes from two different pairs in your pack.

55. Put head on desk and cry.

56. Begin work day.