tim’s thought property

As I had posted a few days ago, the city has had a culminated two weeks of light snow dumped on it, putting us to where we should be in snowy yards, shovelling, and adjustment to the season. Sure, the snow may be later than it normally arrives, but it’s made itself at home once again.
Having said this, many of my fellow citizens have not realized that winter is now here for good. Or perhaps they have and have forgotten how to handle it. Tuesday morning I awoke to drive to work with forty-five minutes of time to get there. I had not thought that shovelling would take priority. It turns out my dad had been shovelling that morning from 6:30, and expected me to help. I shovelled the last part of the driveway and left for work, with less time than I’d wanted.
When I arrived on the main thoroughfare to the downtown from my end (Henderson Highway) I was instantly plugged into an on-going, late-started rush hour. The traffic inched along at 5km/h, when we actually were moving. I kid you not. The road had been plowed once, but it was still less than ideal to drive on. It seems that every finicky and un-confident driver in the city had convened that morning on Henderson Hwy to drive at a speed slower than most parades and funeral motorcades. For one hour I was stuck on that road. (In any normal day, it is a ten minute drive to the downtown bridge, the Disreilli) I was in traffic for an hour! Then, since all the traffic was still hindered, driving 40km/h felt like speeding down the rest of the streets to work. I got to work an hour late, but I had spent a grand total of an hour and thirty-five minutes in traffic. For those who aren’t aware, I am deeply frustrated at being in traffic, since I don’t have the patience for being in a car using my time and gas, and really just putting me in a place where I do not want to be.
That day, Chapters closed early due to lack of customers, as most of the shoppers ended up coming to Starbucks. Even with that, we weren’t very busy at all.

Yesterday, Wednesday, I had another fun escapade on the way to work.
I was condemned to drive the Passat, a car with which I have never quite taken to, and have a frosty relationship with. I have posted about it a few times, with it’s many malfunctions. It’s like the Village Idiot whom you at first feel sorry for, since not all of the problems are it’s fault, but after the repeated and continual problems persist, with no signs of change (even by taking it to the shop numerous times), you can’t help but quietly and openly resent it.
So, I got up extra early to avoid the mini-van stalling drivers of the suburbs, and I made it to the Exchange District in fairly good time. Yet, when I was driving the last half of my trip to work, with a half hour in my pocket, I had found a new problem. I felt the steering keep pulling to the left, so I had to really overcompensate. This car has had alignment problems as long as we’ve had it. Only, after a few more blocks, I looked at the tire at a stop light, only to see the many punctures on the tire, like a systematic stabbing of the wheel. I pulled in to the parking lot of the local seedy hotel and strip club (the Balmoral, if you’re curious), not too surprised to see three cop cars in the parking lot, no doubt on some kind of stake-out.
I phoned my dad, then CAA, who informed me that due to a backup in the services, the earliest tow-truck would arrive at 12:30. Dad came to give me a ride to work, but we ended up cancelling the tow-truck, and instead putting the tiny spare tire on the back, and switching the back tire for the demised front tire.
He took the Passat, I took the van, and arrived an hour late, again.

And again, I was given the generous grace of my boss, to let me stay an hour longer to make up for my arrival; and again, this was another piece in the stew of my frustration. With all of these dealings in the last two days, my nights were severely augmented. I had an appointment cancelled on Tuesday, as well as a Toastmaster’s Meeting. Yesterday, another get-together was nixed, due to the weather, lack of working vehicle, and energy.
Today I was expecting an explosion or a car accident to happen, you know, to finish up the scale of my traffic troubles. It turned out that only long rush hour was in store. A little anti-climactic, but much more safe, I suppose. And that is how my days have unfolded this week.

Tune in next week when I raise an abandoned polar bear cub and tame a team of huskies for the annual Great Trek dog-sled tournament from Iqaluit to Whitehorse. Oh, and my impending story of sticking my tongue to a metal pole. It should be riveting.