'Hey y'all- watch this!'

Have you ever noticed how people turn into complete idiots immediately after the first snow of the year? You get an inch of snow on the ground and suddenly everyone’s student driving their mum’s car again. OMG! What if I’ve discovered a correlation between snow and amnesia previously unthought-of?! What if... what if there’s something going on between ice cream and bike riding too?! I’ll be famous. Heckyes.

Anywho. I’m reminded of those wind puppet guys popular with car dealerships and grocery store openings. You know the ones- arms flailing wildly in the air, streamers for fingers? If they had mouths, you know they’d be going- ‘blaaaaarrrrwahhhhh!!!’ And if they had legs, you know they’d be running a zigzag course through the parking lot. That’s what everyone reminds me of. Except, you know- real. And... in cars and stuff.

Living in Minnesota, I know I’m not at liberty to bitch about the snow. What? Did I think it was going to miss us this year? Yaddayaddayadda. Why don’t I just move if I hate the snow so much? Yaddayaddayadda. I KNOW. I realize I can’t say anything about the snow. So I’m not bitching. About the snow anyways. People’s driving in said snow- different matter entirely.

I made it to work this morning- barely. On a hope and a prayer, mostly. Everywhere I went- every street I turned onto... chaos! Every driver I could see was shaking their fist at someone. When I pulled into my ramp- Stan was already there, shoveling the way. He was shaking his head and had a horrified look on his face- probably sick to death with the thought of the Normandy’s own Yabi on the roads with all these crazeh people. I parked and jumped out of my car to meet Stan who was running over.

‘Oh my freakin’ god! Did you see that Stan? Can you believe everybody??’
‘Give me your keys Kell.’
‘I almost died liked 5 times!! It’s like they sent out a memo to half the drivers in Minneapolis telling them to drive on the wrong side of the road or something!’
‘Keys Kell- now.’

I’m confused but start to hand them over when a terrible suspicion starts to dawn on me. Oh no. *I’m* the crazy idiot, forgot-how-to-drive-in-the-snow driver.

Stan says I can have my keys back as soon as the plows come out.
Oops.