That's a tiny path towards my car. This is a look down the street:
Our street is mostly two lanes where people can park on either side. You have to give fellow drivers room to get around, but otherwise it's not bad. Or rather it wasn't bad. It's one car width wide now. When I leave and come home, my stomach is in knots hoping that no one will be coming the other way. Whenever this happens, one of us has to put it in reverse and thread backwards between the snow mounds until you can get to a spot that's big enough to squeeze past. Aside from the main roads, it's like this everywhere. Further into Boston, it's much worse. There's just nowhere to put the snow.
I've been having issues with a part of my roof due to a huge ice dam. (Everyone is struggling with ice dams.) Our eldest found a leak in the ceiling in a downstairs room. Thanks to suggestions from my wonderful next door neighbor, we found a way to make a divot in the ice so the water has an escape route now. But it has been very stressful after work each day spending hours out our son's window scrapping the roof, salting the roof, beating the crap out of the ice on the roof, talking about the roof, worrying about the roof. It's been very upsetting to my husband, as his health hasn't been good recently and it kills him as a man to watch me do this stuff.
Here's a look out that upstairs window:
Everyone I meet is either frustrated or exhausted, and it's coming out in anger. Tonight I had to stop at a local CVS. There's a mountain of snow in the lot that must be 40' high and 30' wide. It literally blocks the end of two rows. When I tried to exit, no one had left a space at the end for us to get through. When I put the car in reverse, there were already three cars behind me. We came to a stand still, and then a car pulled out in front of me. I got out, gesturing like a flight attendant and yelled to the ones behind me, "You have to back up. There's no way through." No one moved. So I did it again. Then a guy walking towards the CVS yelled at me, "You're going the wrong way, moron!" So I yelled back, "I know that, but there's no way out." Then he screamed, "You're going the wrong way, STUPID!!" And I yelled, "I KNOW THAT! THERE'S NO WAY OUT!" Then finally the farthest car moved, and we eventually all got out.
I am tired of shoveling, tired of the cold and tired of worrying. I'm tired of the pain in my back that I know means one of those pesky discs has slipped again. I'm tired of the impending doom feeling that comes from knowing days in advance that the snow is coming. I'm tired of pretending to my children that everything is hunky dory. I'm very tired.