On Friday myself and the rest of the Greater Toronto Area woke up to Snowmageddon. I was like a little kid filled with the illusion that fun and adventure (possibly a snow angel even) were ahead. That was, until I realized a) I had to go to work and b) I had to shovel first. I got ready lightening fast and pulled out the boots my mom bought me for my treks to school in Sweden. These are serious boots that lace to the knees and make this clomping sound when I walk. I pulled the toque down to my eyes, big giant mitts over my hands and opened the door.
I should mention that I live in a basement apartment with a number of stairs. My roommate and I took turns digging ourselves out until we could dig no more. As we shoveled the snow covered in our work and the world was a sheet of bleached perfection that idiots with rear-wheel drive insisted on trudging through before the plows had even begun their work. I ran inside to check with my boss about working from home as my confidence about the commute wavered with every heavy scoop, then headed back out to dig out my roommate who was determined to make it in.
Other people were out shoveling and I waved hello and made idle chit chat. I helped a couple or two by pushing them out when their cars got stuck and I cleaned my roommate’s car off. I was all about snowmageddon. We even went out at 9 that evening to finish up the shoveling and dig my car out and I was still feeling pretty good. I was still giddy with thoughts of hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows and creatively built snowmen.
Fast forward to 9am this morning when I headed off to art class and realized that the plows had been down our road and they’d really done a great job of clearing it. At that point I realized there was literally a wall of snow at the end of our driveway that had frozen into ice mountain over night. Snowmageddon would not defeat me. I grabbed the shovel again and chipped away and shoveled until the mountain was a mole hill and I was sweating unattractively and then I was off. I was 30 minutes late for art class but I figured better late than never. In a hurry, I swung a quick right into the parking lot of the creative center only to realize it was closed and the driveway had not been plowed. Of course I realized too late, got stuck, and spent the next ten minutes alternating between drive and reverse trying to make a path out of snow hell.
Snowmageddon 1, Me 0.