Ri. Dic. U. Lous.

Okay so it's been snowing like...like it's January in northern Indiana I guess. Fine. I accept it in January. But that doesn't mean I have to like it. In fact I hate it. I hate winter. Fine. It looks pretty out. And I can admire it if I don't have to leave the house. But unfortunately, I do.

I am a panicked, white-knuckled, winter driver. I despise every second of it. I am constantly convinced that I will die before I arrive home. I just turn on a CD and sing along to take my mind off of the impending doom that I am sure awaits me at the start of every new mile. So today, I canceled lessons while at the church and headed home to Warsaw.

Where did I have my car incident? You may imagine that it was on State Road 19 where I had to drive around multiple buggies who were out in this weather just to make road conditions that much more hazardous for the rest of us. Wrong. Or perhaps it occurred on 800, a road that is frequently traveled but is treated like an isolated road in the Yukon territory that leads nowhere for all the plows and salt trucks that go down it. Nope. Perhaps it was in town where there are dangerous median strips made of sticky snow down the middle that just want to pull your car into oncoming traffic when you're trying to turn. Wrong again. No, the incident occurred outside my own garage door. I attempted to make the turn into the garage when my car immediately got stuck. Completely stuck. I could go in reverse - barely - but I could not move forward. I kept hopping out to see what massive bank of snow I must be stuck in. But there didn't appear to be anything there but freshly plowed pavement. I kept rocking the car from reverse to forward. Then I got angry and tried to will it forward by angrily punching the accelerator. The only result: a foul smell. I got out the shovel and shoveled a little bit of nothing. The minutes ticked by and it just got more and more ridiculous. There didn't appear to be anything there to keep my car from moving forward. Finally I just reversed her down the alley, got her moving forward, and parked her in front of the house. Frankly I think she's just real ticked at me for taking her out in this crap. So, If Brian wants the car in the garage he'll have to deal with it himself.

Stupid winter.