Snow Magnet

I have a theory, Modern Philosophers, but I hesitate to share it because science has never really been my thing.

I mean, I keep a team of scientists on retainer, aka locked in the basement, in case I ever need something scientific explained on the blog.

But I’m going to take a chance here and open up about this idea because the blog is a safe place.

It’s probably not going to win me a Nobel Prize, but if it just puts me in the conversation, I’d be thrilled.  You know, given how I’m nothing close to a scientific genius.

Okay, here goes…

I think I’m a snow magnet.

Now that I’ve gotten that off my brain, the headache that’s been plaguing me all day has suddenly dissipated.

What a relief.

Seriously, though, snow finds me no matter where I am.

When I lived in Southern California, it snowed once.  It never snows in Southern California.  But it did when I was out there.

Why?

See the above theory, which I’ve put in bold letters so it’s easy for you to find.

Take tonight for instance.  I had a very long day at work, and I didn’t feel like going for a walk after dinner.   But the weather was actually nice, most of the snow from yesterday’s blizzard had melted away, and I thought a little fresh air might get rid of the stench of my work week.

I’d gone maybe a quarter mile when it began to snow.  I had no idea it was supposed to snow tonight, and it probably would not have if I’d just stayed inside like I’d originally planned.

But I had to go out there, a shining beacon to snowflakes, and bring down Snow Miser’s wrath upon my unsuspecting neighborhood.

It wasn’t a light snow, either.  It was coming down so hard that it was already accumulating on the street by the time I’d made it back to The House on the Hill.  Just me and my stupid magnetism at work.

I’m inside now.  All warm on the couch, having shed my wet, snow covered clothes for something dry and cozy.

I bet if I looked out the window, I’d discover that it was no longer snowing.

But I’m not getting up off this couch.

If I get too close to the windows or doors, I might start attracting snow again.  And I really don’t feel like spending any time shoveling this weekend.

If only I could attract the ladies the same way I bring on the icy, white stuff.

Of course, this belief that I am a snow magnet does nothing good for my Post Traumatic Snow Disorder.  I thought I finally had that under control this winter, having overcome my paralyzing fear of driving in snow thanks to the RAV4.

How can I say I’m cured of my PTSD, though, when I think that I have some sort of superhuman ability to conjure up snow?

How ironic would it be if it turned out that I possessed a superpower very similar to that of Snow Miser, my sworn enemy?

This is a little too trippy for a Friday night.

I need to turn off my brain, enjoy the whoopie pie I picked up at the grocery store, and curl up on the couch to watch some shows from the DVR.

Enough of this snow magnet theory…it’s too much!