skibigsky's Diaryland Diary

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I REALLY am a princess

Damn. In less than a week, I’m going to turn 37. 37?!? When the hell did that happen? People who are 37 have done things with their lives; they are moving up through the ranks of management; they’ve got 401Ks with more than $50K in them; they’ve got kids and mortgages, and minivans, and are lusting for (but not buying because they aren’t practical) sports cars. People who are 37 are much older than I am.

Well… okay…. They’re much more mature.

Yeah, so I’m generalizing. But still. 37?!? That’s really on the downhill slide to 40, and after that….. Well, hell, after that, we all know the deal – pray for hijakings. Or is that no longer politically correct? True, I’m married, but still…. Isn’t 40 sort of like death?

Before you start posting a bunch of comments about how life really doesn’t start until 40, let me just say that I had the same issue in my late 20s…. And, of course, each year has been better than the last. So what am I bitching about?

I dunno. 37 just seems old.

*ahem.

Today was my first REAL attempt with the snowblower; we got 9 inches of snow last night/this morning, and since Mr. V. had a 12:30 doctor’s appointment, I had to get us out of here. So, I put on all my stuff, got the snowblower started, and started on the driveway. But for some reason, unlike the almost-clean concrete that Mr. V. gets when he does it, I had about 2 inches of snow still left on the drive. Plenty of snow was going though the chute, but I was leaving a lot on the driveway. I fiddled around with all the controls I was aware of, to no avail.

Whatever. I was getting MOST of the 9 inches of snow off the driveway – enough to get the car out, certainly. An when I was about 90% done, Mr. V’s buddy Tommy (how should be known as Fuckwad…. But nevermind….) came up the driveway – long story, but the guy was here to borrow a computer. Now, this guy has a HUGE driveway, and likely knows snowblowers. Did he offer any suggestions, or (godforbid) any help? Nope. Just told me it looked like a lot of work.

Thanks, asshole.

Anyhoo, I finished the driveway, and at the appointed time, got Mr. V. ready for his doctor’s appointment. Mr. V. comes down to the garage, and his comment to me: “So did you just push the snow around?”

Yeah. I should have killed him right there. Feeling sorry for cripples, though, I didn’t. I explained that there was A LOT more snow on the driveway before I started. He made snide comments about how I wasn’t going to be able to negotiate the driveway without sliding, which I ignored. (I haven’t bothered to tell him about my practice on icy roads/parking lots when he’s not with me, so I can learn how to handle a car in slippery conditions. Besides, I knew it was warm enough that I’d have plenty of grip; most of the snow would melt soon.)

In the course of the drive, I explained what was going on with the snowblower – and then Mr. V. realized that no one had ever shown me how to adjust the level of the auger.

Thanks, kids.

So, when we got home, he showed me how to adjust it, and now I’m ready for feet of snow.

Okay, maybe not. But I can certainly get us out of here if need be. And managed to, today, as well, thankyouverymuch.

And I think that Mr. V. recognized that I tried.

And for the record, while we’ve had snow flurries all afternoon, the sun did come out and most of the snow melted. I did shovel the tire tracks off, just so I don’t get ice tonight, but that took about a minute.

The worst part of it all? Not the not-knowing-how-to-work-the-snowblower, or even having to dig out the birm that was left from the snowplows while we were at the doctor’s, or even the fact that Mr. V.’s buddy (I can’t stand the guy) didn’t even offer help or advice? Nope. The worst was that I chipped a nail somewhere along the way. And that will have to be remedied. *gah.