As I'm sitting here I'm staring out the window at a fence, trying to remember how tall it is, because it is almost gone.
Yes, I am in one of those cities that has been experiencing apocalyptic weather over the past week (and the entire winter). Well, apocalyptic is more in jest - everyone has been saying that. I, however, believe that the apocalypse will cover more than just part of North America. But who am I to judge, right?
It's our own freaking version of The Day After Tomorrow, if you've ever seen it. Not that I remember the plot or anything. I just remember there was a lot of snow and some kids were stuck in a school. But you get the idea. Snow. Piles of it.
A friend of mine runs a snow removal business and their clients' snow banks are so high they are having difficulty getting more snow on top of them - this was before the 50 or so centimetres we received this weekend (49 to be exact - and if you are loathing my Canadian-ness right now, that works out to 19.29 inches according to Google, my favourite measurement converter).
God, this is bad. It's my brother's 16th birthday today. At the other end of the city. And according to the news, if you get stuck, you are on your own, because there is no one available to help you. That's harsh.
I'm fortunate enough to own a Nissan Pathfinder. But it doesn't have snow tires. And it has a tiny volvo parked behind it that I will have to move to get out of here. The snow bank in the actual driveway, which was plowed a few days ago, is higher than the bottom of the car. Most certainly. And I am home alone. Because as I mentioned, my host runs a snow removal business. He may never come back.
Alright, alright. I need to get my act together. Wish me luck.
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