In about an hour, I have to drive on snowy streets. I’m dreading it. I hate driving on snowy streets. Maybe it would be different if I drove something other than a ‘98 Mazda Protege that’s lost all four hubcaps and makes a high-pitched squeal when the temperature sinks below 75 degrees, whether it’s stationary or in motion. But that prospect doesn’t matter; I do have a ‘98 Mazda Protege and I have to drive it on snowy streets for approximately half an hour so I can get to work.

This is the reason why I look especially nice today. I even woke up half an hour early this morning to rub fresh, really fragrant flowers all over my body. John thinks that I’ve all of a sudden started looking forward to going to work, that I’ve turned into a 9-5 sophisticate. But I haven’t; My survival mechanism has just kicked in.

Say my ‘98 Mazda Protege bravely makes its way through the white and crunchy streets and suddenly falls into a roadside ravine. I need to be well-dressed and definitely nice-smelling if I’m going to be cross-armed on the side of the road, waiting for some hillbilly to happen by with one of those bungee cord things on his tractor that he would hook up to my morose ‘98 Mazda Protege and drag back onto the road.

Photo courtesy of Creative Commons: SeRVe61