Really, You Can Learn From Me

So, say it's wickedly cold outside. Blowing, snowing, sleeting, snizzle, the works. You're not only out of food, but you're also out of toilet paper. You'd go out, right?

Well, I did. E was bundled into a marshmallow state, and I warmed the car up for nearly a half an hour to start thawing the ice enough to scrape it off. We headed out and went to the grocery store and Target. Idiot drivers were, of course, out in full force. You know, the ones that forgot that generally you park in rows in a parking lot, not diagonally. Or the one that drives down the center of two lanes, despite two clear sets of tracks. And the one that stops 15 feet before the trigger for the turning lane, causing a huge backup because the light never changes, they don't move, and no one can go around them.

I made it back, after learning that the anti-skid function on my car sounds like something horrible is happening to the front end, and that I really should slow down on my apartment complex drive. (Downhill, 90 degree turn, and a giant ditch on the other side). It was raining freezing rain really hard when I pulled in, so I just grabbed E and ran into the building. I thought I would go down after she fell asleep and get my groceries.

But see, it was freezing rain.

Crap.

And now it's 12 degrees out.

Crap.

And my car is frozen solid.

Crap.

And the toilet paper is still in there.

Along with the Kleenex. And the paper towels. And my Reese's peanut butter & chocolate heart.

Shit.

Georgia . . . Georgia . . . I've got Georgia on my mind. . .