A Snow Angel You Are Not

I know the city snow plow driver is just doing his job, Modern Philosophers, but he has to understand that he has positioned himself to be thought of as my archenemy.

Sure, the streets need to be cleared, but does the plow have to leave a mountain of knee deep snow at the foot of my drivewayt as part of the process?  And this snow is never the soft, fluffy stuff.  It’s heavy, icy, and from the wrong side of the tracks.  This snow has attitude, it’s seen things that average precipitation shouldn’t, and it plants itself at the edge of my driveway like it never intends to leave.

I’m sure there’s a way the snow plow driver can skillfully maneuver that enormous blade at the side of his vehicle, so that he skips the opening of my driveway and leaves the snow on the other side.

The question is: Does he want to do that?

It took me just over an hour to clear my driveway this afternoon, but the bulk of that was spent down where the drive meets the street.  There was a mountain range of snow left behind by the plow, and it took hundreds of shovel scoops to make move it out of the way.

Again, I know the snow plow driver is just doing his job, but the city has to understand that his actions create hours of backbreaking work for the tax payers. And my property taxes are not cheap.

I know this situation will never change, but if I’m going to have a blog, I might as well use it to vent my frustration.  My entire body aches, my shirt is drenched with sweat, and I’m so frustrated that I’m actually thinking that living in California might not have been so bad.

Clearly, I am not thinking straight.

Hopefully, this was the last big snowstorm of the season.  Maybe I won’t have to see my archenemy again until November.

That would a compromise that I could accept.

Now please excuse me while I sprawl out on the couch and try to numb the pain with an hour or two of mindless television…