Life Off-Label

I was born in Illinois, and have many fond memories of playing in the snow. Mom would help my sister and I get all bundled up like little marshmallows. We’d go outside to make forts out of the piled up snow from the snow plows, make snow angels, and throw snowballs at each other. Once we were too cold and tired to enjoy it anymore we’d head inside to take all of our snow gear off and find some fresh hot cocoa waiting for us in the kitchen.

Then I moved to Texas. We don’t get snow much down here, so it can be very exciting. I tried to relive the glory days of playing around in it like I did when life was so care-free. I cherished every white Christmas, be it down here or when we went back up north to visit family. I would even start to wonder if I’d rather live up there, and get to have a “real winter” again. But all it took was driving in snow once to appreciate the milder winters of the south.

I know that people up north drive in those conditions all the time. My parents, who grew up in Milwaukee, like to get snobby at southerners who don’t know how to drive in it. But there’s two things about winter driving in the south that non-southerners should know: we didn’t ever learn how to drive in it, and there aren’t enough snow plows to make the roads somewhat manageable. Also, usually the “snow” is really sleet that just makes everything slippery and perfect for running your car off the road. So, when those couple wintry days a year do come, we just shut down our schools and businesses and try to avoid driving in it.

Last year, when I was living in Dallas, pretty much everything shut down for almost a week. It was the week before the Super Bowl, and I liked to joke that Green Bay and Pittsburgh brought the weather with them. My apartment parking lot was so iced over you could play a game of hockey on it. Actually, I had to call in at work (since hospitals are one of the things that can’t shut down) because it was impossible to get out of my garage. The next few days were a scary drive as many of the city roads were still icy, but at least the highways had been somewhat treated and were fairly drivable. I survived, but I never wanted to do it again.

So tonight, as the snow started falling, and my Facebook news feed blew up with everyone’s excitement, I was terrified. I had a few hours to go at work, and knew it would only get worse in that time. I should have just asked to leave early, since I’m still training, but silly me didn’t, and as I walked outside the snow was coming down pretty hard. My car was already covered in about an inch of snow, and the roads didn’t look very promising. Oklahoma is just as good about pre-treating roads as Texas in that they don’t do it at all, so I cautiously started my 20-mile drive home, not going faster than 30mph at any point. Every so often I’d look to the side of the road, and see a four-wheeled reminder of what it looks like to lose the battle with the slick road, but I tried not to let it get to me.

My first challenge came when I tried to go on my usual ramp from 74 to 44. I knew it was going to be tricky, as it is one of those sharply-turning cloverleafs, and nobody had driven on it in a while as there were barely any tire marks. Predictably, I swerved a little and hit the side of the curb on my way around. Somehow, I managed to gain my control back enough to merge onto I-44 though.

Do you ever get that feeling that someone is looking out for you? I get it occasionally, and I definitely felt it right after I merged onto I-44. I was starting to feel a little flustered after losing control once, but then right ahead of me I saw a snow plow merging onto the highway, and a wave of relief rushed over me. The symbol of comfort it provided as I followed it restored my confidence to make it back home, so I continued on.

I had one more interchange from 44 to 35, and I had to do it without the plow ahead of me. Again, I started swerving, but I didn’t hit a curb this time. I slowly made my way down 35, and eventually reached my exit, but the fun wasn’t over yet. I only had a little bit of side road driving left,  but it’s just as terrifying when I realized all the stop lights I’ll have to go through. I’ve found that stopping in this kind of weather should not happen often because it is hard for my car to get going again. I’ll be honest, since there weren’t many cars on the road, I ran a few red lights when I saw nobody was in the vicinity. Hey, it was better than risking my car being stalled in the middle of an intersection. This strategy fared very well, and I made it back to campus, only blocks away from my apartment.

I normally have to make a u-turn to get into my parking lot, but that wasn’t happening, so I had two options. I could come at the parking lot from the other direction, avoiding the u-turn, but involving a lovely drive through a ghetto part of Oklahoma City. Or I could just make a left-turn and park in the visitor lot that I’m not supposed to park in. I’m a suburban-raised girl, and I’m not afraid to admit that the thought of being stuck in a crime-heavy neighborhood made me feel very uncomfortable, so visitor’s lot it is.

The light was green, and an inner part of me cheered because I wouldn’t have to resort to running another red light to make my turn. I let off the gas to make a slower turn into it, I get about halfway through and.. oh no… we aren’t turning anymore… and here comes the curb right ahead of me. BAM! I hit it straight on. BAM! The back side of my car passes over it, too, and my entire car is on the grass. I am twenty feet from my apartment.

Ok, now what? Who do I call first? A tow truck? 911? Of course as luck would have it, my cell phone battery was low. After sitting there for a moment, I put my hazards on, and decided to go into my apartment to charge my phone while I make my phone call. Since I’m on campus, I go with the university police, as they’d be the most likely to respond in a reasonable amount of time. The dispatch lady told me I could stay in my apartment while waiting for the officers to arrive, and she’d call me back. When I went outside to meet them, they said they would help me move my car back onto the road so I could make it into the visitors lot. Of course, if it didn’t work I’d have to call a tow truck, but the two nice officers were able to get my car off the grass, and my car is now safely parked. I emailed my manager about it being parked there, and I’m sure she’ll understand. Once the weather clears I’ll have to take it into the shop to make sure I didn’t do serious damage to the underside of my car, and if I did hope the insurance will cover it, but for now I’m glad to be at my apartment in one piece.

Despite all that, I don’t entirely hate snow. I still love playing in it. Had I not had to work and been snuggled up inside my apartment all day, this rant very likely wouldn’t exist. And of course, you can’t have a “snow day” without snow! But even today, while writing this blog entry, I took a quick break to glance out my window, and the beauty of the pure white blanket over everything is so peaceful that for a moment I forgot what it put me and my car through only a couple of hours ago. I felt care-free again. But even if I don’t hate snow, I’m willing to sacrifice some of those happier moments on a shorter winter if it means I won’t have to worry as much about driving in it.