The diary of almost everything

The first week back at work began, as all great stories do, with snow.
Of course it did.
Never during my holiday.
Never when I was still allowed to lie in bed and pretend the world didn’t exist.
No, the snow waited patiently for the exact moment my alarm went off on Monday morning.
Even my cats looked offended.
They stared at me from the bed like, Where exactly do you think you’re going? It’s white outside.
Monday was actually fine. I drove slowly, carefully, like a responsible adult.
I arrived at work without drama and felt wildly proud of myself.

Tuesday, however, chose violence.
At the first traffic light, a truck was stuck in the snow. There was a police officer standing next to it, doing nothing.
I was also stuck. The police officer watched me. I watched him.
No one helped anyone.
So I started rocking my car back and forth like a very patient idiot.
Forward.
Backward.
Forward.
Backward.
After about twenty minutes I finally found grip and escaped the intersection like a hero in a low-budget action movie.
On the way to work, I passed car after car that had clearly given up on life.
At school I wisely parked on a different lot.
It was completely covered in snow.
There were almost no cars.
I drove in, got stuck immediately, and decided to just park diagonally and accept my fate.

Later that day I went outside to dig out my car. Except… it wasn’t my car.
I had a lovely conversation with someone while enthusiastically clearing snow.
Only when I tried to open the door did I think, why does this car have Apple CarPlay written on the doorhandle? I do not have Apple CarPlay.

My actual car was twenty metres away. So I started again. Sweating, jacket off, hat off.
Regretting every life choice I had ever made.
Somewhere in between all of this I also went to pick up a huge package, only to realise I’d forgotten my ID.
So I walked back to work, then back again.
In the snow, like a very determined penguin.
Wednesday was code orange.
I stayed home, not out of fear, just out of respect for my own sanity.
Thursday went well.
Until the end of the day, when I got stuck, again, in the parking lot.. this time at home.
A kind stranger helped push my car.
I briefly considered hugging them.

Friday, just to complete the storyline, gave me a full-blown migraine. Lights out, world off.
And now it’s the weekend.
The snow has convinced me to make soup.
Multiple soups.
The kind that makes you feel like a person who has their life together, even if you absolutely do not.

Despite everything, it was actually a good first week back. We laughed, we survived and we’re back in rhythm.
I still think winning the lottery would be a solid career move.
Writing and doing nothing in particular remains very appealing.

But until then, I’ll happily accept seasons.
Snow.
Autumn leaves.
Spring birds.
All of it.
Even if winter keeps trying to kill me with summer tyres.

-Sophie Quinn