I would like to begin this entry with a not-so-small caveat. Actually, I don't think caveat is the right word. Either way, a statement: I am not a clumsy person. Yes, I walk into things a lot. But that has more to do with my girth, which is considerable, than any sort of trait of clumsiness. My fingers are also pudgy, a fact related to my girth, which causes me to drop things from time to time. However, I'd like to think I'm still a pretty co-ordinated person. I balance okay on my own two feet with a reasonable amount of friction underneath me, and I have excellent spatial awareness. Thank you, video games.
Oh, here's the caveat: I'm a wuss.
Today took me twice as long as usual to walk to the T station. I admit that my fear of death by neck breakage (or paralysis, or compound fracture, or any sort of fracture, or pain in general) is a bit irrational... but I also think that three inches thick of ice on sidewalks is a bit dangerous. I'm tempted to become the Johnny Appleseed of rock salt, and salt all the damn sidewalks between my house and the T. That includes the little corner by Stonybrook, which is a slippery combination of brown sand and ice on a slight incline. Thank you for making me feel safer, MBTA. Notably, the only time I've ever actually slipped on MBTA property was at the Green Street station when I walked out of the door and immediately fell onto my ass on some strange combination of sand, ice, rain, and the slippery bricks they use there.
I got passed by all the people who are smarter than I am and had the bright idea to walk in the street. I also have an irrational fear of the idiocy of Boston drivers, and don't really trust them not to drive 50 mph up a one way road like that. I would have been fine, though. On the way back, right as I dodged a puddle of brown slush by sliding on a patch of sandy ice and getting a face full of branches, I decided to walk in the road with the cars at my back. I managed to survive. I didn't get to listen to my iPod, though, as I thought that'd be tempting fate a little too much.
I like snow. I like ice, so long as it's far away from my feet (unless my feet are clad in skates). I even don't mind the cold that everyone else seems to hate. I just don't like having to face my fears every time I want to go somewhere.
Oh, here's the caveat: I'm a wuss.
Today took me twice as long as usual to walk to the T station. I admit that my fear of death by neck breakage (or paralysis, or compound fracture, or any sort of fracture, or pain in general) is a bit irrational... but I also think that three inches thick of ice on sidewalks is a bit dangerous. I'm tempted to become the Johnny Appleseed of rock salt, and salt all the damn sidewalks between my house and the T. That includes the little corner by Stonybrook, which is a slippery combination of brown sand and ice on a slight incline. Thank you for making me feel safer, MBTA. Notably, the only time I've ever actually slipped on MBTA property was at the Green Street station when I walked out of the door and immediately fell onto my ass on some strange combination of sand, ice, rain, and the slippery bricks they use there.
I got passed by all the people who are smarter than I am and had the bright idea to walk in the street. I also have an irrational fear of the idiocy of Boston drivers, and don't really trust them not to drive 50 mph up a one way road like that. I would have been fine, though. On the way back, right as I dodged a puddle of brown slush by sliding on a patch of sandy ice and getting a face full of branches, I decided to walk in the road with the cars at my back. I managed to survive. I didn't get to listen to my iPod, though, as I thought that'd be tempting fate a little too much.
I like snow. I like ice, so long as it's far away from my feet (unless my feet are clad in skates). I even don't mind the cold that everyone else seems to hate. I just don't like having to face my fears every time I want to go somewhere.
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