Let it Snow

(Dedicated to my friends on the border... I'm sure you'll enjoy this one)
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So my recent posts have all been rainbows and smiles... relishing in the life of one sentenced to a cubicle, doing humidity-induced sweat angels on the Commons, lauding the constant swearing and honking by the Newton tolls as the chorus to my favorite forgotten song...

Well, my old pal Snow thought it was time he came and shook my hand... and the very foundations of my mental stability.

Yes, it was only 4-6 inches of snow on Thursday afternoon. The snowologists were quick to point out this was not a big storm in terms of white stuff BUT that, due to the timing of the storm, it was one of the worst commutes they'd ever seen.

I got in my car in South Boston at 1:15. Trying for a short-cut on a back ramp with few signs, I accidentally missed the Pike and ended up on I-93. For those of you who "know" and see where this is going, I'll give you a second to laugh.

Done? Thankssss.

I dropped myself off at Government Center, which at 1:45 on Thursday was the driving equivalent of Eric Mangini dropping himself off at Cask 'n Flagon... I wasn't going anywhere fast. Now Gov't Center is north of my office, so imagine my morale level as I'm passing my office at 3:30... with an 1/8 of a tank left. Had my saint of a sister not rescued me from my storm-induced retardation and suggested I abandon the car in the nearest garage and take the train home, you could have added mine to the 728 cars towed off the highways by State Police later that night.

As I approach South Station with a film of slush on my head, a $35 garage ticket in my pocket, a glimmer of false hope that the trains are on schedule, and ready to punch out the first person that says "Boy, it's really comin' down, huh?" regardless of age or gender (I don't discriminate), a familiar sight started to bring me back to earth. It was the lady I see every day passing out free Boston Nows (I do the sedokus in the back). She smiled and said "it's good to see you." I told myself at that point that life truly does go on and all that matters is I'm on my way home.

As coincidence would have it, I saw my card buddies on the platform (oh that's right... for a month now, I've played a new card game on the 4:58 with this group of 7-8 that call themselves "Trainiacs"). Apparently everyone decided to grab the 4:10 and we had a nice, relaxing game home.

Emy was here when I got home at 6:15 (I left at 1:15, so you don't have to scroll up), so it was all 5 of us watching The Office in Dad's room. Plus, I needed my car in Boston on Friday anyway. So everything worked out and I escaped with some pretty valuable lessons I once learned, passed on, and apparently forgot while playing in the sand for 2 years:

a) don't let your tank slip below 1/4 between October 1 and March 31
b) top off your washer fluid every day on your lunch break during the same time period
c) there is no quick way out of Boston Monday-Friday in a snowstorm unless you live in Charlestown and have a kayak handy... and the bay hasn't frozen... which it has. So scratch that too.

I'm gonna go print c) and glue it to my steering wheel so I can read it to myself every time I utter the words: "Hey, I think I have an idea."

Today's mission: Snow tires for my winter monster, the Corolla, before Shitshow Part Deux slams the commonwealth tonight.

"Well, it doesn't show signs of stopping..."

~Rube