More snow coming. Wind chills near -30 expected. Stores cleared out of ice melt, shovels,
sand, snowblowers, ice choppers, and roof rakes. Grocery store shelves resemble this past
summer when Market Basket went on strike: Empty with a slim chance of reprieve.
I admit that although I am
a hardy New Englander, even I am getting disgusted. There’s just no damn place left to put any of
this snow. Bitter cold is making my skin
feel like sandpaper, and my toes and heels and fingers are cracking and
splitting and screaming.
At school, the drifts are
up to the windows and beyond. Today the
modular classrooms start shaking and wailing like they’re experiencing a decent
northeast earthquake, shaking and bucking and roaring as if even the ground is
tired of carrying all the extra weight of snow and semi-permafrost. Someone claimed it is the heating system at
fault, but we know better. The ground
has given up.
All of us -- earth,
buildings, humans – we’re all starting to crack. We are cracking mentally, physically,
geographically. How in the hell do
people live like this? How do residents
of the Arctic Circle even begin to function?
Why aren’t the people of Siberia insane?
Beautiful? Yes. Record-shattering? Probably.
Tolerable? Not by any fucking stretch of the
imagination.
I’m tired of thinking
about this winter, talking about, writing about it. I’m equally certain you’re tired of hearing
about this winter and reading about it.
So, please. Save us.
Just save us already. Send the
sun, the heat, the sled dogs, the Saint Bernards with mini-barrels of grain
alcohol, the National Guard. Send food, basic
supplies, ice melt, and toilet paper.
But, please, for the love
of god, will someone turn this winter back to a normal setting? I swear on my last shred of dignity and
resolve: I am beyond disgusted already.
