Nashville is under siege.
Not from dumbass rednecks burning up the capitol building… again.
No, not from a suicidal, bomb-making maniac in an RV… again.
This time it’s snow and ice.
I’ve been stuck in the house for four days straight. Now, usually I don’t complain much, especially about being indoors, on my own, putting off my to-do list while taking in copious amounts of coffee, tv, nerd shit, and foodstuffs. But the option to not has been taken away from me. 100% I’m still not complaining.
In fact, I’ve been having an amazing week! No one yelling at me about work because – there’s no work, it’s shut down. No obligatory go here’s or the looming “you didn’t finish your errands!” because I literally, physically can’t get there.
Three days of ice, and I couldn’t be happier. My family updated me on the main roads, apparently they’re good to go. But I still can’t get out of my apartment complex. It’s situated at the bottom of a steep hill and the landlord(s) have yet to do anything about the roads, parking lots, or walkways.
Every so often I hear a neighbor scraping ice or revving up. I oblige and watch them in the windows.
The first ice day, this older man from across the street was going nowhere at about 60 MPH. He just sat there, spinning wheels. I was parked directly behind him, so I immediately threw on some shoes and went out to film his ass. If he gained any traction, he was going to barrel into my and my upstairs neighbor’s cars. That was quite a site for about 20 minutes. Well worth it, I’d say.
Yesterday, I was outside to start my car, just to warm it up, and another neighbor borrowed my scraper. Now he’s in this big all wheel drive SUV thing. He was gone about 10 minutes, then parked right back in his spot. “That was a quick trip,” I chuckled.
“I can’t get up that hill.” He laughed and went back inside.
While he was gone, I watched a whole troop of folks on the other street digging a car out of an embankment, just to watch them have to push it along the street in neutral.
Today I’ve watched and listened as cars rev up, going all of nowhere. It’s become a weird pastime sport. I don’t know who I’m rooting for – the car or the ice – but ultimately I’m rooting for safety. It’s this fascinatingly fun sport to me now.
As I write, I’ve been listening to this manual car just down the way shifting gears and doing gods all know what trying to get to nowhere. And big, fat fluffy flakes are falling.
I think I’ll go play in the snow for a bit; enjoy it being pretty before it gets dark.
This is the first snow week I’ve enjoyed since being in grade school.
Happy post #100.
Still no closer to being a professional.