Snow-shoveling stream of consciousness

..."You only need to push it to the sides," [my husband] said. As if. That's not how I roll, jack...

...Wish that there had been someplace to park so the shovel doesn't bark against the tire-tracks on "my" side of the driveway...

...Wait--I'm not even a quarter of the way done: Why is my back complaining already?!...Okay, maybe that glass of leftover cooking-grade Chardonnay can be passed off as "medicinal"...

...Almost to the plow-roll (ugh!)...the only upside is looking back to that long trail of grey blacktop behind me...

...Attacking the plow-roll...Why does the snow have to get so high at the corners?...And why did the wind decide to pick up now?...

...Maybe it wasn't the smartest idea starting from the house--maybe it would have been smarter to get the dreaded roll out of the way first-thing. Then again, maybe warming up to it with one half the driveway was the best idea...Yeah, that's it: Attitude is everything, y'know...

...Disturbing, the size of that ice-chunk tossed by the snow-plow: It's half again the diameter of a basketball! Glad it wasn't moving fast when it tossed that bad boy off!...

...Gotta keep moving through the stupid roll, if only b/c the noise drowns out the inane cellphone conversation the neighbor's daughter is having right now. (Yes, I'm fascinated by what you had done to your hair, cupcake!)...

...Doing such a scrupulous job of keeping the corners clear...giving the plow plenty of room to fill in on the next pass...

...Ironic that by the time I was tall and strong enough to shovel this much snow, Mom & Dad were divorced and we'd swapped the house for an apartment...about the only upside to renting from a faceless landlord, I suppose...On the balance, it still isn't worth it...maybe that's why Grandpa Moon considered owning the land you lived on so important...

...Stupid! Should've figured out how to alternate my grip back on the other side of the driveway...Slow learner much?!...

...Oh fer' cryin' in yer' beer--she's still on the cellphone?!?! Why can't she talk inside? Oh--wait--I get it: Gotta come outside for the ciggie-treat. Chickie, your Dad just had all sorts of cancer cut out of him! Sheesh: Even I'm not that slow on the uptake!...

...Let's clear around the backwheels of [my husband]'s truck. There's probably 50 pounds of snow in the bed, but that thing "gets stuck in a heavy dew," y'know...

...Wonder how close to 9:00 it is. In retrospect, I should'a bribed the neighbor kids again...No, last time I had a solid reason...And, really, what's the point in capitalism if you can't bother to take care of your own property...Next thing you know, they'll be mowing my lawn and raking my leaves...and that's just so parvenu...(I've been lower middle class all my life, but I still know in my bones that it's parvenu.)...I'd scandalize my ancestors in so many ways, but not this one: They have not begotten an effete arriviste, darnittoheckalready!...

...[My husband] will scold that I "spoil" him by brushing and scraping the truck's windows, but there's less than a Hobbit's chance in Mordor that I'm gonna let him do it tomorrow morning when he's been home sick for the past two days...The neighbor kids probably wouldn't think to do this anyway...

...I think that the endorphins have kicked in...Woo-hoo! Shovelers' High!...

...Maybe that's the whole point in starting a company and making a bazillion dollars: Not having to worry about shoveling a driveway again...Sure, any fool with a few extra bucks and an enterprising neighbor kid or two can have their driveway shoveled--but how many will put a helicopter landing pad on the garage, I ask you?...Ha! Top that, Joneses!...(Bonus: My ancestors will be far too freaked out to be scandalized...)