Outside of Blog's window, beautiful, fluffy flakes are cascading to the ground. Area schools are closing and, as always in Portland when it starts snowing, everyone's going absolutely bat shit crazy.

There was a time when I used to laugh at these panicking cry babies. For me, snow used to mean "day off." Now that I've joined the "20 years of schooling and they put you on the day shift" crowd, the definition has changed. Now, snow = "fit throwing hell ride."

How could you do this to me, snow? You flounced into town, completely unannounced. Because of you, I showed up late to work today, smelly and unshaven. Tonight, if you start sticking to pavement, I'll have no way to get home. If you had to do this, couldn't you have put it off until the weekend?

Don't you remember the good times? When I used to stay home from school and we'd laugh at the cars skidding in the street? Or when we used to frolic in the park together? Don't those magical moments mean anything to you? *sniff*

That's it. I'm calling this whole thing off. I'm filing the paperwork tonight. I want you out of here and I never want to see your face again. Pack your things. It's over.

PS: Yes, I will be seeking custody of the sled, you no good whore!