Western Michigan blows.
It blows especially hard this time of year, when I swear to you it snows every goddamn day. I bundle up in the morning like a fucking marshmallow. A fashionable marshmallow in my fur and velvet earmuffs and Calvin Klein parka, but still. It's hard to sashay around and maintain maximum cuteness in all this gear. I might slip on the layers of ice and snow that have been building up since it began snowing nonstop at Thanksgiving and break a hip or chip a tooth and that ain't cute at all.
There is a 4 block stretch of road on my commute that I've started calling "the Black Eye express" because of all of the pot hole induced boob jostling.
Why hasn't somebody invented a form of pavement that doesn't buckle, cave in on itself and disintegrate in cold weather?
Why don't they bring back full service gas stations so that I don't have get out of the car to pump gas? I would pay extra for this. I really would.
What moronic clan of mouth breathers decided this type of environment was habitable enough to build a city that my husband would be unwillingly transferred to hundreds of years later causing us to move away from our beautiful and cozy home in a place where it doesn't snow every goddamn day and I never once dreamed of owning a parka, waterproof snow boots or any type of fleece whatsoever? ? ?
Here is a photo that I took while I was driving to work this morning.
(Insert blood curdling scream here.)
I realize that the roads were shitty and that I probably shouldn't have taken my hands off the wheel long enough to take a photo., but I felt it had to be done and look I'm totally fine.