[226] 01/27/2023 Friday. Kitchen Microwave. Beaver Haus. Granville, Vermont. Well, I drove five and half hours, from NYC to Granville, Vermont only to get stuck in my driveway! Hahahah. Fucking Vermont. The snow sure looked powdery, it was not, in fact, powdery. It was an inch of crust and a foot of powder underneath. And because I drive a sedan I got high centered. And because Junior Mint's ass was hanging out in the street I couldn't just leave it there and deal with it in the morning. I mean, you know what I mean, Joe? I mean, it was kind of the last thing I wanted to be dealing with at the moment, I had to piss and I had a bunch of shit to bring into the house and it was getting dark and I had just driven five and half hours, butwhatever, being an adult means dealing with shitty things when they have to be dealt with, so I popped the trunk and started shoveling. NPR blasting from the speakers, that was kind of the worst part, I didn't mean to be listening to it, it just happened to be playing as I was pulling in, I don't know, I guess I got distracted when I was approaching the house, and for some reason my addled and duressed brain couldn't figure out how to make the very loud and very unwelcome both sides are the problem bullshit, stop. I mean, I appreciate NPR sometimes, less and less with each passing day, but when there is ACTUAL news, I can stomach it, but those days are few and far between as the bridesmaids say. So I shoveled and shoveled, nothing doing. I trudged through the snow to the Garbage Room to get a shovel-shovel, you know, the one with the metal spade? A digger. But that didn't help. I couldn't get far enough under the car to un-stuck it. I tried pushing from the front, with reverse engaged, nothing doing. Eventually I remembered I had bought a 50 lb bag of sand last Winter, not understanding how useless it would be, not understanding how much fucking snow Vermont gets, even after spending a Winter up here the year before as well. So it never got used. But it was there, right next to the front door, doing nothing but mocking me. So that is good. Good that it was there, because aside from that bag of sand, there was nothing I could put under the front tires to gain traction. Everything was covered in snow. I suppose I could have maybe found something in the Tertiary part of the house, maybe some wood or something, but I had that bag of sand. So I dragged the thing through the snow and dumped half of it behind one front tire, and half of it behind the other front tire, and I won't lie, it worked, I had to rock back and forth for a while, eventually understanding that I could turn the fucking radio off, so that was nice, and then I was out. Unstuck. I parked the car in the parking lot of the DogHouse, hoping I hadn't broken my flexpipe again. I mean, if that happened, I don't know what I would do. Start packing things into boxes and planning my exodus from this shithole, but from what I could tell, things were fine. Are fine. I gathered all my shit, walked awkwardly to the mailbox, removed a week's worth of mail. Looked at the shovel-shovel, stabbed into the snow, put my things down. The mail. Trudged the shovel-shovel to the front porch. Trudged back to gather my shit. The mail. Awkwardly trudged back to the front door. Well, the only door, but it is in the front of the house. Had to plunge my hand through a foot of crusty snow to get the house key. Meaning I had to put all my shit down again. The mail. Then I had to pick it up again and awkwardly bring it into the house. But I made it, and it was fine and everything was fine and Vermont is just fine, but my god, can't you just give me one fucking break you maniac of a state! You muddy, snowy, wet, freezing, grouchy, culture-less, beautiful chaos-machine of a state!
[226] Screed City
[226] Screed City
[226] Screed City
[226] 01/27/2023 Friday. Kitchen Microwave. Beaver Haus. Granville, Vermont. Well, I drove five and half hours, from NYC to Granville, Vermont only to get stuck in my driveway! Hahahah. Fucking Vermont. The snow sure looked powdery, it was not, in fact, powdery. It was an inch of crust and a foot of powder underneath. And because I drive a sedan I got high centered. And because Junior Mint's ass was hanging out in the street I couldn't just leave it there and deal with it in the morning. I mean, you know what I mean, Joe? I mean, it was kind of the last thing I wanted to be dealing with at the moment, I had to piss and I had a bunch of shit to bring into the house and it was getting dark and I had just driven five and half hours, butwhatever, being an adult means dealing with shitty things when they have to be dealt with, so I popped the trunk and started shoveling. NPR blasting from the speakers, that was kind of the worst part, I didn't mean to be listening to it, it just happened to be playing as I was pulling in, I don't know, I guess I got distracted when I was approaching the house, and for some reason my addled and duressed brain couldn't figure out how to make the very loud and very unwelcome both sides are the problem bullshit, stop. I mean, I appreciate NPR sometimes, less and less with each passing day, but when there is ACTUAL news, I can stomach it, but those days are few and far between as the bridesmaids say. So I shoveled and shoveled, nothing doing. I trudged through the snow to the Garbage Room to get a shovel-shovel, you know, the one with the metal spade? A digger. But that didn't help. I couldn't get far enough under the car to un-stuck it. I tried pushing from the front, with reverse engaged, nothing doing. Eventually I remembered I had bought a 50 lb bag of sand last Winter, not understanding how useless it would be, not understanding how much fucking snow Vermont gets, even after spending a Winter up here the year before as well. So it never got used. But it was there, right next to the front door, doing nothing but mocking me. So that is good. Good that it was there, because aside from that bag of sand, there was nothing I could put under the front tires to gain traction. Everything was covered in snow. I suppose I could have maybe found something in the Tertiary part of the house, maybe some wood or something, but I had that bag of sand. So I dragged the thing through the snow and dumped half of it behind one front tire, and half of it behind the other front tire, and I won't lie, it worked, I had to rock back and forth for a while, eventually understanding that I could turn the fucking radio off, so that was nice, and then I was out. Unstuck. I parked the car in the parking lot of the DogHouse, hoping I hadn't broken my flexpipe again. I mean, if that happened, I don't know what I would do. Start packing things into boxes and planning my exodus from this shithole, but from what I could tell, things were fine. Are fine. I gathered all my shit, walked awkwardly to the mailbox, removed a week's worth of mail. Looked at the shovel-shovel, stabbed into the snow, put my things down. The mail. Trudged the shovel-shovel to the front porch. Trudged back to gather my shit. The mail. Awkwardly trudged back to the front door. Well, the only door, but it is in the front of the house. Had to plunge my hand through a foot of crusty snow to get the house key. Meaning I had to put all my shit down again. The mail. Then I had to pick it up again and awkwardly bring it into the house. But I made it, and it was fine and everything was fine and Vermont is just fine, but my god, can't you just give me one fucking break you maniac of a state! You muddy, snowy, wet, freezing, grouchy, culture-less, beautiful chaos-machine of a state!