It’s been kind of a rough week.
Thanks for the kind words about Lady Doodle. We are still waiting for the pathology reports, and she is busy creating uh-mayzing snotsicles. Seriously. You have not lived until you’ve shared a home with an 80-pound dog who has foot-long snot stalactites hanging off her muzzle.
Obviously, we’re trying to look on the bright side. Sure, she might have a nasal tumor. But dude, this snot thing is a serious talent. Like, “America’s Got Talent” talent.
To add to the general ambiance of awesome, we received 20 inches of snow in the span of 5 days. While my hearty Iowan heart finds this to be a sign that we’ve gotten our money’s worth and had a real winter, the reality of living someplace where this sort of precipitation isn’t normal is another thing entirely. Folks here are FREAKED OUT.
Plus, if we’re honest?
This was our driveway Tuesday morning. The garage is to the right, and the camera is facing the street.
Yeah. That’s supposed to be a driveway.
It took My Guy and I several hours – plus a kind neighbor with a snow blower – to make the drive passable. My Guy got to use his chainsaw, which is obviously a win. However, I am still unable to move from all the cutting and limb-moving and shoveling and hitting-trees-with-a-broom-like-the-old-lady-I-am-in-hopes-that-no-more-branches-break.
And speaking of being an old lady? Facebook is en fuego with talk of … my 20th high school reunion.
I could handle the snotsicles. And the snowmageddon. But throw in a reunion, complete with people bitching, “Oh, nobody liked me, so I won’t go and none of you will care” or “Does it have to be on a weekend? I don’t know if I can get off work?” Well … fuck. Just FUCK.
The world is clearly coming to an end. Much like R.E.M. predicted, I feel mostly fine. Mostly.
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