Elaborate apologies for my blause, folks. I had the chance to do a really great project on a really tight deadline, and I've been totally engrossed. It's great to come up for air today with a solid feeling of accomplishment.
Meanwhile, it's fucking cold today, no other way to say it. It was -12 degrees F. when I woke up, and by the time I took Connery to school it was down to -16. (That's almost -30 to you Celsius folks.) Still, I was bundled up and ready to start the day by the time we got into the car with minutes to spare before he needed to be at school. I treated myself to a decaf latte--important later--and eased on down the road.
One of the, shall we say, unique things about Livingston is that they really don't believe in plowing the streets after a big snow. Oh, they'll plow the three main ones, but even though it is a small town, there are way more than three streets here. I think they are trying to save money because eventually the wind will come along and blow all the snow away anyway. I had already turned down one of the rural-ish roads that leads to Connery's school when I saw some pretty big drifts ahead. Still, there were tracks and I have the spanky all-wheel drive van with the great tires, so I went for it. You can probably see where this is going. About halfway down the road, I found myself high-centered on a snowbank. I wasn't going anywhere.
Luckily, just at that moment, a colleague of Chip's happened by and stopped to see if she could help. It was pretty clear that we weren't going to be able to get the car unstuck, so she gave Connery and me a ride back to the school, where I called AAA. Naturally, I wasn't the only dumbass Livingstonian high-centered on a snowbank today, so I was told the wait could be an hour or more. In true smalltown fashion, a kind and helpful Montessori dad offered to help me out with his truck.
He dug me out with a shovel and then towed me to safety (not before I compounded my dumbassedness by letting him try to pull me out in Park rather than Drive), and as I was driving out onto one of Livingston's three plowed roads, I noticed the wonderful decaf latte, undrunk, but now not in my cupholder and instead oozing into the floorboards and all over my front instrument panel. Apparently all that rocking (because, duh, the car was in Park) had tipped it over and I hadn't even noticed.
Guess who's getting the Dumbassedest Award (DA) today? That's right. I claim it.
Now I think I'll go back to bed.