WIPE YOURSELF OFF, YOU'RE BLEEDING

What the hell is going on with the weather lately? I was left totally unprepared last week when I noticed the first snowflake fall from the sky. Usually when it comes to the weather I am never unprepared. Guys started to call me "the weather man" during this season for my obsession with weather.com. If there was rain in the forecast, I was the guy to come to for the precipitation details of that night's game. I don't know what it is, but I have a strange obsession with looking at maps and trying to figure out what's going to happen. I guess it's the geek in me.

Anyways, for some reason I hadn't checked the weather in a few days and had no idea that on October 29 there was a foot of snow in the forecast. Since we just moved into a new house I have no snow blower, no shovels, or anything capable of picking up snow. Hell, we don't even have furniture, so I guess it's no surprise we aren't prepared for a massive snowstorm. On our way home from furniture shopping (see, we are trying!) we drove as fast as we could to some local hardware stores to only find they had closed early because of the weather. I was screwed.

As I arrived home and sat in my living room watching the snow fall, I decided we weren't going to be the new kids in the neighborhood that let our driveway go to shit. I was going to find a way to stay ahead of the storm and clear that damn driveway. I looked around the house for ideas. After a few minutes of pondering, I came up with what I thought was a genius plan. I took a broom stick, a dust pan, and Laura's hair elastic (what do you know, we have no tape in this house either) and constructed what I thought was the worlds best shovel.  I would find out in about five minutes that it was a total piece of shit, but that didn't stop me from rushing outside to show off my newly constructed product.

I felt great after scooping my first few bits of snow. I knew it was going to take me a few hours to get the job done, but my new invention made me feel so smart I really didn't care about time. About five or six scoops into the process my dust pan had enough and decided to inform me that it was made to pick up @#$%ING DUST and not wet, heavy snow. It had snapped into two extremely jagged edged pieces, one of which made its way straight into my hand. As I let out a loud scream, I swear I heard the thing say, "that'll teach this dumb bastard." It sent me running into the house and up the stairs yelling at Laura to grab me some band-aids and a first aid kit. Serves me right I guess. No more inventions for me.