Let me give you an idea of where things sit as of 12:54 pm today, Wednesday, January whatever-the-fuck-it-is. About six inches of snow (if not more) just commenced falling on my part of Central Jersey (
This was determined quite scientifically, if executed hastily, as I dipped my erect penis into the snowfall and determined a good 3 inches left to solid ground), sending the neighbors scurrying to dig out cars and clear paths of the free kind of white powder*, like extras in some Chris Columbus Holiday piece of shit.
The neighbor kid who wears a red baseball hat that makes him look like a fat little Ryan Zimmerman could play the dicky Macauley Culkin-type lead. Speaking of snow and Culkin, how early in life do you think blow finds you when you're a 6-year-old leading man, for Christ's sake? But I digress. I was talking about the old neighborhood out my window.
Right now my Polak roommate in out there shoveling the driveway with his hippie-chick girlfriend, having already done two of the neighbors and intent (from the look of things) on getting the whole fucking street done with hand shovels at this point. God Bless 'em; I'm sure not doing it.
The garbage trucks just rolled through,too, so they've sort of flattened a path in the road for the smaller vehicles, or those that handle terribly in this kind of weather like my Saab 9-3. It's a great car and runs beautifully, but you could blindfold a Kenyan and drop him in Alaska with nare but his mesh tank-top and 80's-style running shorts and he'd handle Winter better than my fucking car. Just a fact.
All along the street people continue digging out. Those that didn't have to brave the elements at 6:30 am to get in before their asshole boss gives them shit (via cell phone from home) or decides (from his Winter vacation spot somewhere in the Caribbean) that things aren't bad enough to close the office. This is the type of dickhead who thinks the term "State of Emergency" doesn't apply, or that the hour-and-a-half delayed start will completely tank production for the foreseeable future and send his company plummeting into bankruptcy.
It's crazy. Being buried under about a foot of accumulated snow (end already, Winter) should be God's or fate's way of telling you to avoid the rat race for a day or so. Yet we really think we're so fucking clever and special that we can beat Mother Nature by driving directly into the fist of her latest right cross.
I know those of you with your eye on the almighty dollar will argue the point about making every minute profitable, stay one step ahead of the competition, "losing" a day of work. And what the fuck does that mean, exactly? I submit that a person will do the same amount of work in 4 days that they would've done in 5 if they are held responsible for completing it by a specific deadline. Worst case scenario, everybody stays an extra half hour for a couple weeks or you brown bag it for a day or two and eat at your desk. Now we are getting the work done, sparing some of our dwindling natural resources a day's use, and most importantly not putting our fucking life on the line on the Hockey Rink formerly known as Route 1.
*
(I would add 'and less fun', but seeing the sun come up at age 30 only resulted in Introspective Change-my-ways moment number 6,482. Not anything fun)
