Dear Blizzard,
I would wave a white flag if I could, but I don't think you would see it. So I've decided that if you knew the impact you're having on me and my beloveds and neighborhood and city and this part of the United States, you might be a bit more gentle with us.
Now, before you get all in a huff, let me tell you what I'm thankful for. Most of us still have power. I am now genuflecting every time I turn on a light or open my refrigerator and see the glow on the spinach leaves, er, make that leaf. That's the last green thing in there. Not that I'm complaining! I still have that box of raisins that's been in there since 2002 and a couple individually-wrapped Kraft singles. I'm not starving. So all in all, I'm very grateful.
But here's the thing: even going outside nine times like I did yesterday to shovel, etc. is making me a little wacko. I saw myself in the mirror this morning and noticed that my hair was sticking straight up in a way that makes me look crazy. Normally it sticks up in a way that makes me look, well, like a poet. But that wasn't poetry staring back at me a half hour ago. I'm also kinda weepy . . . okay, I admit it, I'm LONELY. Haven't been hugged in a couple of days, and, what can I say? I'm a hugger. I've tried to find some companionship by reading the piles of books laying around my house, but I can't concentrate, as I think you're going to blow down a power line at any second. So I'm on edge.
But enough about me. Tell me a little about yourself. I read this morning that it will be a:
. . . bright day due to sunny skies and a fresh blanket of snow. Winds from the northwest at 15 to 25 mph will lead to wind chills in the teens. This will lead to blowing and drifting snow in open areas resulting in low visibility.
Not a bad day all in all. Thank you. But then I read that you may be visiting us again on President's Day:
A vigorous disturbance (or clipper) diving south on the polar jet stream will likely pass just to our south. This will place it in a favorable position to produce a period of snow over the metro region Monday afternoon and/or night.
Say it ain't snow. Please. Work with me, will you? We're all miserable. Please don't make me beg. I can hear you right outside my window. You've stayed long enough. Now I'm politely asking you to leave.
Sincerely, Flannista
P.S. If you don't cooperate, nowayasista is SO going to throw hands.
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