I generally have little need to be in public, and am happy at home. I don't generally feel stuck here, and can go days without needing to go out running around in the world full of weirdos out there (present readers excluded, of course...mostly....) Again, to be clear: I am happy at home.
When I choose to be at home.
I did not choose to be at home this week.
The last time I left my property was Mon-day. It is now Thursday.
But it stopped snowing more than a day ago, you guffaw at me. What the heck are you still doing at home?
Oh, well, let me just clear that up for you.
I get that we're not in the zip code that makes our streets a high priority. Clearly. They finally showed up after dark to start their first passes on our street. They're busy, whatever, I get it. I was just glad to see them come and get us OUT. They were there to help, right? Right.
Uh, yeah, not so much "right".
The city's "plow job" on our street did nothing more than cement my doom, and further exacerbate the state of being "snowed in" that's going on here at our happy little house.
Geez, Cathy, you say, are you EVER happy? They showed up, didn't they? They made not one, but TWO passes, didn't they?
Why yes, yes they did. They plowed the street twice. 2/3 of the street got a good going over. While they were on our street, they plowed a lot of snow.
Guess where they plowed it TO?
You guessed. My driveway, and aaaaallllll the way down my side of the street.
First pass = up the middle. Great if you don't live on our street, and are just passing through. Happy for you.
Second pass = north side of the street, to the curb. Good for Mr. I-Have-A-Plow-I-Won't-Use who lives across the street and all his neighbors on either side. Nice for you folks, isn't it?
Third pass = Oh, yeah. Sorry, there was no third pass. That didn't do much for those of us who live on what is apparently the WRONG side of the street. We are just SOL, aren't we? (Mom always told me that meant "Stuck on a Limb" as a kid when she would use it...Mom fibbed.)
See, here's where we screwed ourselves. We tried to be nice. Being the helpful, thoughtful citizens we are, we moved the usually-parked-on-the-street-pick-up into the driveway on Tuesday night so when Mr. Plow came through, he wouldn't have to go around the truck - he'd have a clear shot at getting us de-snowed clear up to our curb. What did that gain us? Oh, well I'd love to tell you. Wen they finally showed up to plow last night, they plowed it all so nicely...NOT to the curb, but rather to the 6-foot span of where we COULD park the truck ON the curb in order to get it back OUT of our driveway...if we could GET anything smaller than Greg's giant work van out of our driveway...which we can't.
SO: driveway has snow at the end which will surely stop my van from leaving. Our truck, however, would keep me from even getting out of my garage anyway. And there's no place to park the truck (IF we could somehow float it out of the driveway and park it down the street), unless we go half way down the hill, practically out of sight of our house (which we don't feel so hot about doing in our little neck of heaven), because WE tried to help the SNOW PLOW do his job. He did NOT return the favor, no matter what he thinks he did.
Look, before you comment about how I don't what it's like to do that job, and that I need to be patient, let me just say this: I'm sure it's a thankless job. I'm sure you've been working long hours all week. I'm sure it's exhausting and frustrating.
You know what else is exhausting and frustrating? BEING STUCK IN A HOUSE FOR FOUR DAYS WITH TWO LITTLE KIDS WHO WANT TO PLAY OUTSIDE IN SUB-ZERO TEMPERATURES, BUT WILL SETTLE FOR DRIVING THEIR MOTHER BATTY.
I'm just sayin'.
So, if you're a person out there with a snowplow and nothing to do*, know this: I will write you a check. Come to my house, plow out my driveway and the curb in front of my house, for REAL, and I will PAY YOU. JUST GET ME the HELL out of here.
*Unless you're the guy across the street. You can bite me - you and your stupid truck WITH THE WORKING PLOW on the front of it has been taunting me from your driveway every time it's snowed since 2005. Got news for you, chief - it would not kill you to hop your lazy butt up in the truck and clear our damn street. You could have had the whole thing done 24 hours ago and just been a good neighbor for once - hell, we probably would have been glad to pay you, you'd have made a small fortune from all of us. Apparently somebody told you if you help someone your head will fall off. It won't, by the way. Just so you know. Get bent.