Winter in Vermont

To all those who wonder about civilization, standard of living and the creature comforts available to those who live (metaphorically) in the Arctic Circle, allow me to set your minds at ease. There aren't any. I didn't set much stock in femininity to begin with, but honestly sometimes you just want to lie in bed with the vapors and have someone else deal with life for you.

To wit: I hauled my under-rested ass out of bed into the frigid air of my house this morning, wildly excited to get to early statistics class. Actually, I was happy to be up because it's the most beautiful sunny day out, and a balmy 8 degrees. I didn't even wear a coat, just a scarf and gloves with my sweater. No coffee, no breakfast, had to hit the road. I lugged my bag, extra computer bag, lunch bag, undereye bags out to my car, which is conveniently located in 2 feet of snow because I'm too lazy, and too spoiled with 4 wheel drive, to have shoveled out my side of the driveway. I minced over to the driver's side door and gently tugged on the handle....it didn't
budge. I sighed and put my back into it... and got nowhere. Angling my body sideways and grimacing while tugging accomplished exactly nothing. No worries, there are other doors. I gingerly stepped back through my footsteps to the rear door...which was completely frozen shut.

Thence began 10 minutes of high drama at 43 Hazen Street, to the great amusement of the kids waiting for the school bus across the street. I tried bracing myself against the wheel while I tugged. I put my back against my housemate's car and my feet up on mine for leverage and heaved. I hurled myself against the doors on the other side of the car, covering myself in snow and achieving approximately nothing. I stomped in circles for a while trying each door over and over. I muttered, I cursed, I kicked inanimate objects, I chipped my nail polish. Finally, after banging for a time on the glass, I managed to crack the glass window on the rear door, through which I launched myself head first, ass and legs waving out the back of the car as I wriggled into the car. With the sense of accomplishment I imagine the gladiators felt after facing down a tiger in the ring, I forcibly kicked the doors out from the inside, let loose a victorious 'HA!!' and chugged on over to class.

Some mornings you just need a freaking martini.