I Shoulda Stood in Bed

That wouldn't have kept Skippy from phoning or texting me, though.

We had a bunch of snow on Friday. I can't tell you how much because it was too dark to see, but it had been snowing for six hours by that point. Overnight, the snow became rain, so the snow on the ground matted down, but I think we got a couple of inches.

Saturday morning, I woke up at my usual time, picked up a shovel from the shop, and made sure that the students had clear (albeit narrow) paths from their dorms to the dining hall, and also around the activity building, since the swimming coach perversely did not cancel or reschedule his weekend swim meet, like every other event coordinator around town had done. (People here appear as ignorant about driving in snow as those of us from the desert, but this guy must be from North Dakota or someplace.) I didn't have to worry about the roads around the activity center, though, because some nice elves had come in overnight and cleared them for me. (Thanks, elves!) After four hours of shoveling, I went home and shoveled the sidewalk and driveway of my apartment -- but did my neighbors thank me? I think you can guess the answer to that. (Maybe they thought elves did it.)

Sunday morning, I sprinkled ice melt on occasional spots on sidewalks and roads which had frozen overnight. It turns out Saturday was warm enough to melt some of the snow, and I was a bit miffed that my shoveling was made redundant that quickly. At least I was done with the ice melt in less time than I had spent shoveling.

You know you wake up early when: You go to work for two hours. You return home and eat breakfast. You read a while. You decide to take a nap. You wake up, refreshed. You look at the clock and realize it's not even noon yet.

What was the worst part of the whole weekend? I didn't even get a cheesesteak in appreciation of my hard work. I drove all the way (over the river and through the woods) to Tubby's on Saturday afternoon and discovered that they were closed. I decided to eat instead at Aretha Frankenstein's, since I was in the area, and since it had been several months since my last visit, and I figured that they would have restocked their T-shirts by then. Not only were they sold out of men's shirts yet again, the ground beef burrito was terrible. (It tasted like a sloppy joe poured into a dry tortilla instead of a bun.)

Did I mention the tree branches that fell on Saturday?