I've been considering writing a sort of picaresque novel about some of the more hapless aspects of my life, with a Caspar Milquetoast / Walter Mittyesque type of protagonist cast in the first person, but I fear that in fictionalized form the stories just wouldn't have the same impact. It's only because of the dead plain truth of some of the actual episodes in my life that they're so amusing.
For instance, I've been trying for a mail-carrier job with the Post Office for more than two years, and this winter I finally received a job offer from them…but the deadline for applying for the job was January 31st, and the packet with the job offer arrived in my mailbox on February 2nd. That's right—it was delayed in the mail.
I called, but they wouldn't accept a late application. True story.
So anyway, I've had a trip planned since midwinter to go out to Boston and Providence to visit relatives. First air travel I've planned in more than two years. Sure, I knew when I planned it that there was a chance of bad weather—emphasis on chance—Spring storms aren't uncommon here. But it had been looking pretty good. For better than a week and a half we'd had a good semblance of Spring underway—sunny days, temperatures rising to above freezing most days, most of our snow gradually disappearing. The day before yesterday was beautiful, with full sun all day, roads clear, only isolated lumps of snow left over here and there where the biggest drifts had been, temperatures in the mid to high thirties. Zander had been outside in a T-shirt.
So yesterday—the day we're to travel—what happens? A Spring blizzard started well after midnight and dumped 15 inches (38cm) of snow on us inside of 24 hours. Snow Emergency, Travel Advisory, airport closed for more than 12 hours. Flight canceled.
(On the little map, I live in Waukesha, just under the "16." For you non-Americans, the body of water is Lake Michigan in the Great Lakes. Snow map courtesy TMJ4 Milwaukee.)
I had taken the dog to the kennel early in the morning, and by mid-afternoon, by which time it was obvious we weren't going anywhere, the roads were so bad I couldn't drive the mile and a half to the kennel to get her. She had to spend the night there even though we were home, poor puppy.
Our total snowfall for this year: 99 inches (251 cm). And counting, no doubt.
And the ironic part? Yesterday was March 21st, of course. First day of Spring! It just wouldn't be funny unless it were true.