After following my husband around the house and doing my best impression of Count Chocula singing ‘Do You Want To Build A Snowman?’ for thirty minutes the other day, I was thoroughly disappointed when I woke up and there was just a layer of ice on the ground. Where was my six-to-eight inches of snow, Weather Channel? Where?! Has anyone ever heard of job where it’s perfectly acceptable to be wrong 75% of the time? It’s maddening. Screw you, Al Roker. S c r e w y o u. Luckily, it’s not the first time in life I’ve been lied to about 6-8 inches, so I got over it pretty fast.
So, my good friend Winter has finally arrived here in North Carolina. I invited him with open arms and when he came he quickly laid his blanket of white all over everything. I was happy. For a little while. Until I saw that it wasn’t enough to build a snowman or have a snowball fight in. I mean, I guess we could chuck ice at each other. It would probably cause some gaping wounds but it would be fun. Right? Fun. (Maybe I could invite the neighbor boy I hate to join us.) Then, when I was laying in bed this morning, I realized it was cold as hell in my house. Of course, on the coldest day of the year, and probably the one time we are going to get ice/snow this entire season, our heater has to stop working. Why, God?? WHY? Life is cruel.
I’m spending this cold day cozying up with my favorite Christmas presents from this year and last:
(Tora-kitten who I got as a gift last year. She isn’t a kitten anymore, but her name has stuck.)
(Fuzzy sheep socks that a fellow blogger mailed me for Christmas this year. How cool is that? Thanks chosenperspectives !)
Now, onto more important issues, like – where the hell can I find a box of Count Chocula? And I wonder if any local weather stations are hiring, I’m sure I’m qualified enough to predict the weather.