|Speaking of causes, save your nickels, I may need bail money
||[Feb. 13th, 2010|12:03 pm]
Was it the hour and a half to get home last night? Half hour to get from Gaithersburg to the Beltway. An hour to get from there to Kensington. That's two miles. Seriously. |
After trying to pick the Captain up at work -- and trying to get to the Beltway again had already taken me a half hour and I was only HALFWAY THERE. And the traffic reports were leading me to believe that it would take me at least an hour to get TO him, much less come home. So I abandoned him to the metro system and thought I'd kill time by doing grocery shopping.
Except it then took me almost an HOUR to turn around and go from Plyer's Mill on Georgia to the Giant in Wheaton. That's about a mile. Water Main Break. Thankfully, the store was blissfully quiet, since no one could get there. But the stress made me consider many ill-advised high calorie products. But I was strong -- a pint of ginger ice cream was my one indulgence. Okay, and a basil-pesto flatbread. And mushroom tortellini that will cry out later for an Porcini Alfredo sauce. But whatever -- I think I was a SAINT.
Now I'm safe at home and with the exception of a run to Petsmart later, don't have to go out anywhere this weekend. Just watch the fistfights break out at the end of the street, since it's still one way, but you can't see the other end from either place where there's still room to drive two cars side by side.
EXCEPT. The Captain industriously shoveled out a lovely space in front of the house -- with enough clear blacktop to park an Escalade between our driveway and walkway. And we don't really need the space -- it's part of my drainage strategy, certainly -- I am all about managing the water. Snow, schmoe -- I'm from New England, cry all you want to make it melt faster -- but pray that it melts very slowly, as agonizing as it is to deal with it. No, don't cry. The last thing we need is MORE salt and water. Dry those eyes, ya pantywaist.
What the hell does that mean, pantywaist? (You don't have to tell me -- I looked it up. Which, of course, explains why it takes me FOREVER to get anything done.) I am still stymied by a sports person using the phrase "well, that will certainly put dirt in the whisky", which I can't find any reference to whatsoever, am not really sure, given the context that it made sense, but may steal and use properly.
Where was I? Oh, yes, complaining. Fancy THAT.
So, the big beautiful parking space, that we don't really need and are more than happy to loan out to anyone who needs it.
Explain to me why three times today. THREE times. I have looked out the window and someone has parked directly in front of the house, leaving acres...okay plenty o'feet...between them and our driveway, but completely blocking the front walkway so that I have NO WAY OUT OF MY HOUSE without clambering through snow?
Nevermind Geezerdog, who is clearly just going to have to die of liver poisoning, because while I will clamber through drifts of snow to damage someone's car with a blunt instrument, he cannot.
This is NOT a good time to be PMSing.