I just got home from work. You guys will all be proud of me - I am 56, easy going, don't get mad, scored a 31 on Dr. Phil's test. so this morning I have to shovel my driveway out to go to work. I get the last shovelful thrown, lean against it to get my breath and try to stop the coronary i think i'm in the process of having, when, the snowplow comes aroound the corner onto my street. He approaches slowly, I stand at the edge of my driveway, shovel firmly gripped with both hands, teeth clenched and slowly shake my head as I try to stare him down. He looks at me, slowly nods his head, shrugs his shoulders and proceeds to plow the snow right around my legs! As he passes and I realize I am hip deep in chunks of ice and snow, I throw my shovel at him - careful not to hit the plow since i don't want to get arrested for attempting to damage gov't property. I did refrain from any verbal assults and physical gestures. Finally got out, got to work (pretty hairy drive, that was). Made the suicide trip home to find my driveway looking like every bit of surplus snow had been firmly packed into the entrance of my driveway. So I took my bootless body and spent almost an hour digging and shoveling just to get my car out of the middle of the street. I have a major dip as I enter so I naturally got stuck in it and spun till I could smell rubber burning, then was able to inch in far enough to please the plow, the police, the mailman, the walkers, the boro and anyone else who likes to torment the helpless during times of stress. Thankyou for reading, I am much better now that I have vented. I probably won't feel the need to sneak out and sabatoge the plows tonite.
I hope everyone who was forced to venture out in this nightmare returned home safe and sound.