Battle with Evil Mail Lady: Round 2... FIGHT.

I woke up to mounds of snow again today; big surprise. It really doesn't matter to me, since I work from home. I actually enjoy getting snowed in, as long as I have plenty of coffee creamer, hot pockets, and milk for my cereal.

Noon rolled around, I looked out the front window and saw her. Evil Mail Lady, right across the street. In a panic, I clumsily pulled on my boots, and trekked out into the blizzardy afternoon to shovel my porch and a little path through the driveway so EML wouldn't break her tiny little legs on our treacherous icy trail to Mordor.

Sweating with the effort it took, I got halfway down the driveway when my neighbor Lisa called out to me that I had already missed her. She said that EML was quite pissed about the snow, and declared publicly that she wouldn't deliver our mail today. I thanked Lisa for the info, filling her in that our snowblower was broken and K was traveling for work, and finished the little path I had so kindly decided to forge for EML, huffing swear words under my breath as I wasted the remainder of my lunch break on a fruitless endeavor.

Frustrated, I called K and told him the second round of the EML saga. I explained that it's not that I don't understand her frustration. I would be pissed too if I had to stomp through 2 feet of snow to get to someone's door too. And it's within her right not to deliver the mail if we don't shovel. It's just the attitude along with it that gets to me, publicly telling my neighbors how mad she was, and the fact that I DID get out to shovel, I just missed her by FIVE minutes.

But the awesome part of the story is that not a half hour after I got inside to return to working, pissed and sweaty, I heard the sound of a snowblower down on our lower driveway. I looked outside, and couldn't believe it: it was my neighbor from across the street, (who I have never personally met, mind you) clearing the snow from our driveway for me. I almost teared up, I was so thankful. Now I could get the car out of the garage and go get some food after work and pick up my prescription, which was actually stressing me out quite a bit. I pulled on my boots and coat again, and ran outside to introduce myself and say thank you. Honestly, say what you will about small town living, but that man spent almost an hour of his day doing something for a stranger, and in the process renewed my faith in mankind. What a sweet man, doing that for someone he barely knows, because he overheard me say our snowblower was broken. I have to say, I'm really starting to love living in a small town.

Snowtastrophe

Our back deck, covered in snow

I remember sitting on the couch next to my sister, 6am, half ready for school (just in case), watching the scrollbar on the bottom of the news read off the names of the schools closed for snow. I'd clutch my bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, anxiously scooping the squares into my mouth so they wouldn't get mushy, eyes locked on the TV. When I saw Liv Public Schools pop up, (on the rare occasion it did; kids these days get snow days all the TIME it seems) I'd leap off the couch, smash my cereal bowl against the wall and cartwheel through the living room. (Okay, not so much with the bowl and the cartwheels, but you get my point.) And it turns out--snow days are just as exciting when you're a grown up.

I don't know where you live in the world, but if you're anywhere within a three-state radius of New York, you got pummeled with snow today. I woke up to a winter wonderland of epic proportions, snow falling at an amazing rate. Now I work from home, but I sat alongside my sister and boyfriend today watching those school closings with the same excitement I had back in middle school. (Minus the CTC--grown ups have to eat boring things like bran flakes and bananas. Yuck.) And when we saw the school district that my sister works in scroll up on the TV, we high fived like we had just won the lottery.

The snow has been falling all morning, and both my sister and K got snow days! And I don't know about you, but I just can't seem to fight the urge to put five hefty bags on over my clothes in lieu of a snowsuit and go roll around in the snow.