Snow Day

Well, first off, I was late for work. It couldn't be helped, I had to go to the doctor. Nothing serious, just a total nuisance. I was treating it with over-the-counter stuff and it was only getting worse. I decided to walk in while I could still walk.

Really, I almost always walk in when I do go to the doctor. This is because the doctor at this office who takes appointments is a talking version of Harpo Marx (if Harpo could be made both ignorant and mean). My ex was more charitable in her assessment of him: she called him the Clown Doctor. If I go on a walk-in basis, I'm fairly safe from Dr. Harpo because he's trying to get the HMO-required 30 appointments per hour in, so he's much too busy telling other people they are turning their ADHD kids into tweakers and/or dope dealers if they buy that whole Ritalin thing.*



Anyway, I get to work and I'm not there long when I realize it's about time for Em's Dare graduation. I'm not real pro on the whole brainwashing drug war aspects of the Dare program, but I'm not going to make her feel bad for having to sit through the Hitler Youth class.** She didn't create this stupid program.




But I get to the venue and duh, the school is closed for the weather. We had a bit of an ice storm and it was already starting to snow a bit by now.


I worked into the evening to make up the time I spent reading Thomas Pynchon while I waited on my walk-in doctor's visit. It snowed so hard you couldn't see the Stuff-Mart a quarter mile off. It blew sideways. They had us move our cars while they did snow removal and we brushed off our cars and yet, when I left, my car was heavily covered again.




I got home and got that workout I keep meaning to get back into, shoveling and sweeping snow. Even a pathetic attempt at snow removal was an hour of pretty hard work.



Still, I love it when it really snows. Usually, we just get enough to make a nasty mess. I wish I could stay out of work tomorrow like my kiddos. Remember when instead of more hassle, a snow like this meant Play Time?


*I am not making this up. He looked me in the face and called me a speed addict when he found out I was taking Ritalin (under the supervision of a psychiatrist). When I pointed out that my kids' diagnosis and treatment was what got me looking into it, he told me that the street value of the stuff was about $5 to $10 a pill and he never met the kid who could resist the temptation to live with ADHD and sell their medicine for that kind of profit. Then he slipped on a glove, lubed it up and wondered why I couldn't relax for a rectal exam.

**No kidding. The war on drugs is Jim Crow, The Sequel. Dare leads to such nonsense as the daughter of a friend of mine breaking down in tears at a police roadside check because her Mommy was about to be busted for having drugs in the car. The drugs in question were Marlboro Lights. You cannot legislate sobriety, but you can give children a chance to wonder if you're lying about EVERYTHING. If you wildly exaggerate the dangers of beer, why will they believe what you said about huffing spray paint?