Four inches of snow fell last night.
Today was my day off.
Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday are days I have off.
Eastside Dog rescheduled their workers. I now work a mere three days each week. Sucks.
I chose to drive to my parents’ despite the snow.
My car slid backwards down a hill.
Later, I lost control and coasted into a curb, preventing a collision with oncoming traffic.
After 45 minutes, I made it to my parents’ place. Alive.
Kyle, his friend Evan, and I sled-boarded. I got it all on videotape.
I drove back home. Despite the snow.
I made it up a really steep hill without losing control.
I saw that car in front of me.
I pumped the breaks.
They didn’t work.
My car turned sideways.
drove slid on pure ice.
I stepped out of my car and fell. The ice.
Standing up, I said, “Are you alright, sir?”
He didn’t speak English.
His car was dent/scratch/scrape-less. My back passenger door now turns inward.
“Ees OK,” the man said and drove away.
Cars behind me started to honk.
I drove 50 more feet and reached my apartment complex’s parking lot.
Truth be told, I’m having a fat day.
Glad to be alive still.
Drive through snow? Never again.