I fucking hate Snow.
(I'm not talking about the shitty Canadian reggae-rapper, although I do hate him almost as much.)
It's not that I don't think snow is beautiful. I do.
The way it drapes the earth and glistens in the light is truly a breathtaking sight to behold.
But it also turns every asshole on the road into a moving violation.
The trip to the next town over, which usually takes twenty minutes, was an hour and a half today. By the time I made it back I was a quivering mass of road rage, ready to be unleashed upon the next waste of flesh who thinks his 4x4 makes him immune to the elements and above all traffic laws.
I'll admit, my area of the planet is just not used to handling big amounts of snow. It's like failing to be a Canadian. People in Winnipeg and Regina are laughing at us as we slip and slide around. True, we laugh at them the other eleven months of the year, but that's not the point. This town, in fact the entire lower mainland becomes one huge clusterfuck as soon as the first flakes gather on the windshields.
I'm not going to attempt another outing until I can see asphalt and sidewalks - and even then I'm going to pack some Valium. My asshole level is at an all-time high - even a trip to the corner store might push me over the edge. It's safer for everyone if I just stay indoors.
Later.
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