SNOWMAGEDDON

SNOWMAGEDDON

We have been hearing for days about a huge snowstorm that is rumbling our way. Here in Dayton it was supposed to start 2 hours ago, and they are predicting 5-9 inches. So far, nothing has happened.

It must be coming, because they are getting a blizzard in Kansas City, and it is just a matter of time. However, I can’t even count the times this exact thing has happened, and we got nothing. We stock up on food, put on sweaters, and sit by the window, waiting.

If snow does come, it is tremendously exciting. Why, I don’t know, because all anyone can do is stay home. I guess people under 65 go out in it and revel in the beauty, but if one is over 65, we worry about slipping and falling and stay in. I know about the actual result of falling.

When we were visiting the family in Los Angeles for Christmas, I foolishly turned out the lights in the bedroom we were staying in and didn’t wait for my eyes to adjust. I did walk gingerly toward the bed, and it seemed as if it was right there. So I sat down. It was not right there. So I went from standing to falling on my rear in a nanosecond. Luckily, I did not fall on my glasses.

A day later, it seemed like I had a sore muscle in my left glute. No big deal. But that was two weeks ago. Now it feels like I have a hot poker in there whenever I take a step. It turns out that in this situation, according to Dr. Google, a fall like this results in small tears in the gluteal muscle. It can take up to 6 weeks for them to heal. Six weeks of the hot poking with each step. So that happened.

Back to the snow. I check the weather app every half hour. The onset has changed from 2 hours ago to this evening. When this happens, my husband says that all the prognosticators are simply liars, and that nothing will happen. He is usually right.

So my buttock and I are losing hope for a magical snow day, and now I am not only in gluteal pain, but disappointment. My husband just asked me what I think I would do if it didn’t start snowing immediately and drop all those inches on the balcony.

I told him that all of the macaroni and cheese and chicken noodle soup would lose their cachet. It would just be dinner. And in addition, I wouldn’t be able to commiserate with all of my social media “friends” about how awful the snow is. I would have enormous FOMO.

He rolled his eyes.