If Finals Don't Kill Me, This Wretched Snow Will!

This morning I woke up and got ready for school same as usual.

When I looked out the window, much to my dismay, there was a freaking blizzard. I'm not kidding, it was SNOWING. Hard. *Sigh*

I put on three more layers of clothes(not an exaggeration), a scarf, my cheap jacket from AZ, and determined that today I was going to buy a real coat and actual shoes because ballet flats just don't cut it in the snow.

I grabbed my trusty polka-dot umbrella and set off for an adventure. I only got about a foot from my front door before deciding that snow is absolutely wretched.


By the end of my driveway, my socks had slipped down to the toes of my shoes due to the slippery nylons I was wearing under them. Not like I could really stop and take off my shoes to fix it because it was still coming down. Also, my cute little flats were so full of snow that I could hardly tell the socks from the piles of ice. Wretched.

Determined to actually make it past my street, I continued on. Note: while the umbrella did help to keep my head dry, and the snow out of my eyes for the most part, the wind started to pick up about this point, and I was covered with snow.

I was trudging along at a terribly slow pace, trying to convince myself that it wasn't all that bad, but knowing at the same time that I was a terrible liar, when all of a sudden my little flat failed to grip and I went down. Hard. In the middle of a street I was crossing. *Sigh* I picked myself up and heard someone yell: "Are you hurt?" To which I replied: "Just my pride, thanks!"

I brushed myself off and continued on. After all, I was almost a tenth of the way to campus. Wretched. Freaking. Day.

I then began wondering just how many times I was going to fall before actually making it to campus. And then I pictured the eighteen stairs I would have to climb, and the ginormous hill I have difficulty with when its nice out. Those stairs and that hill covered with snow and ice? Kill me now. The only emotion present was dread. Pure and simple dread. This was going to be humiliating, but it was too late to turn back and I had two papers to write, a study group to meet, and a final to take and both(yes, both) of my computers decided to die on me within the last two days. Once again: Wretched day.

It was about this point that I began questioning the reason I even moved here. Why was I willingly subjecting myself to this torture?

Then it began snowing harder.

I now could barely see a few feet in front of me, which didn't really matter because I was staring at my frozen feet attempting not to fall again. Almost two tenths of the way to campus.

It was at this moment that I heard: "Do you want a ride?" I peeked out from under my polka-dot umbrella, and there in a car pulled to the side of the road was a man I have never seen before in my life. With no hesitation I replied:"Yes please." I trudged off the sidewalk and climbed into this strangers car and promptly filled it with the snow I was covered with.

The man told me his name was Camon and I told him that I was from Arizona and that this was my first real snow. He tried not to laugh at me and almost succeeded.

He took me to campus and I thanked him profusely. He really can have no idea of just how grateful I am for that.

The moral of the story is: there are angels among us and those angels drive old beat up red Toyotas and rescue strangers from fates worse than death.

Thanks Camon.